Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection
by theicemenace
Summary: Re-posting this story after tweaking the content. Chuck's dark past comes back to haunt him, leaving his position with the Atlantis expedition in jeopardy.
1. Prologue A Single Chuck

**A/N:** The timeframe for this story is just after "Quarantine", long before McKeller.

Gargantuan-Colossal-Mammoth thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for his assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Note from Lone-Ranger1:** Massive Kudos to TheIceMenace both for making this story, and being a great brainstorming partner. That being said, this story is pretty damn funny, and I still recall Iceasking me one day "I'm doing a story about Chuck. Do you think he might have a dark past?" and it all just snowballed from there.

I really enjoy this story, and I get the feeling anyone who enjoys sitcom style humor will as well:-D

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Prologue**

 **A Single Chuck**

Atlantis was a place for second chances even, if no one else knew that's why you were there. It could also be a sanctuary from the past, the present, or even the future. A single step forward and you were in a place filled with wonder, adventure… and peril.

Royal Canadian Air Force Sergeant Charles Campbell had always been content to remain in the shadows of Atlantis. In this place, he'd found peace and refuge from a life that he wanted to forget.

Here, he had friends that were closer than family, though he never thought he deserved them, a job he loved. Well, except for space vampires that threatened the very existence of all humans in both galaxies. He was happy, or as happy as he ever expected to be.

But when his secret past threatens to take away everything good he'd built for himself far from the place he'd once called home, will he go peacefully into that good night or will he open a big ol' can of Canadian Whoop Ass on them?

~~O~~

"Shit!" He spit the oath out, following it with major cursing that could have peeled wallpaper, if there'd been any on the walls of the basement apartment in Toronto, Ontario.

"What _now_ , Boone?" His companion asked with a sigh of frustration after turning from the small window that looked out onto a street clogged with people and vehicles of all shapes and sizes.

"I can't get around the ******* firewall! We can do this in our _sleep_! This _should_ have been awalk in the park." Boone kept tapping away, getting more and more irritated. Finally, he slammed a fist on the keys of the full-sized keyboard popping several keys off. They fell at the feet of the only other person in the room.

A hand reached for the keys and dropped them on the desk in front of Boone. " _You_ broke it, _you_ fix it."

"Bite me!"

"Already did, but it wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be." They had a short intense staring contest.

As always, Boone was the first to back down. "Okay. _Okay._ " He carefully replaced the keys as the sound of pacing began behind him. He ignored it until he heard a gasp. "What did I do now?"

"Not _you._ Not this time." A grin spread across her face. Boone recognized that look and grinned back. He stood up, and the seat was immediately filled. With a distracted tone, Boone's companion said, "I just hope he hasn't changed his email address."

Boone looked at the screen to see the text of a new email flow swiftly across the screen.

" _Hey Sneaker…_ "

 **TBC**


	2. Up-Chucking the Past

**A/N:** The timeframe for this story is just after "Quarantine", long before McKeller.

Gargantuan-Colossal-Mammoth thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for his assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Note from Lone-Ranger1:** Massive Kudos to TheIceMenace both for making this story, and being a great brainstorming partner. :-P That being said, this story is pretty damn funny, and I still recall Iceasking me one day "I'm doing a story about Chuck. Do you think he might have a dark past?" and it all just snowballed from there. :-P

I really enjoy this story, and I get the feeling anyone who enjoys sitcom style humor will as well:-D

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Up-Chucking the Past**

Chuck logged onto his workstation, and waited impatiently for it to boot up. It took less than a minute, but he was restless and ready to get to work. By the time he was online, Colonel Carter had arrived. She called him into her office for a short meet. Afterward, he worked without interruption until it was time for the weekly dialout. Atlantis would send and receive a databurst as well as send through staff that was rotating back to Earth for vacation, TDY, or reassignment.

Carter didn't need to be present for him to complete the task, but sometimes she came to stand at his side anyway. He figured she just liked to be there, to know what was going on _before_ the rumors started. Or maybe she just needed to get some exercise, to get out of her office for a few minutes. Either way, he knew that she had confidence in him, and in his abilities, so it didn't bother him to have her looking over his shoulder.

He dialed the DHD, confirmed contact with the SGC, and sent the databurst. Another burst was received while the staff rotating back to Earth stepped through the wormhole.

"Transmissions sent, and received." He touched his headset. "We have confirmation that all personnel have reached their intended destination. Shutting down." The sucking sound echoed around the Gate Room, then all was quiet again. Carter smiled at him and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Thanks, Chuck."

He smiled back. "You're welcome, Colonel." She crossed back over the bridge to her office, and he watched her go. Not because he had any feelings for her, at least not in any sort of romantic way.

She had an aura around her that was a combination of toughness and compassion that he envied. He had the feeling, too, that it was an innate ability, and not something that had been learned through hard work though that had to have contributed. Turning back to his workstation, he dived into the task of prioritizing and forwarding emails, reports, and other bits and pieces of daily life from their home planet.

A priority message stated that the _Daedalus_ would be leaving Earth within forty-eight hours instead of a week. All supply requests had to be submitted by 2000 today in order to make it to the ship before it departed. Chuck composed an email, and forwarded it to all personnel, then waited for the inevitable onslaught.

More than a few of the staff were procrastinators when it came to completing "paperwork" in a timely manner. The biggest offender, and he wasn't really surprised, was Dr. McKay. However, to the opposite end of that spectrum was Dr. Keller. Without fail, she had her paperwork and supply requisitions completed well in advance.

Because he stayed mostly in the background, it gave Chuck the opportunity to observe his fellow staff members without their knowledge. He didn't invade people's privacy-that would be wrong on _so_ many levels! He merely scrutinized their public interactions, and made private suppositions as to what might be happening, or what it all meant. More often than not, things were not as they seemed. Yet sometimes he found out that it was just as he'd suspected. He did this to amuse himself more than anything else. It wasn't like he was keeping a log of the goings on around the city. He was just interested.

~~O~~

At 1959, Chuck had finally received all the last-minute requests. In Doctor McKay's case, they were demands. He informed Carter, and she authorized a second dial-out. Because they were only transmitting data, the power requirements were negligible compared to when people and equipment were transmitted.

That done, he went to his workstation, and opened the first of several emails he'd received from Earth. The first few were from the SGC, basic everyday stuff. The next few were from family and friends. But there was one with a name he'd hoped never to see again. It went without saying that he never wanted to speak to this person for the remainder of his life. He was about to delete it without reading, but his curiosity got the better of him. When he read the text, his brown eyes widened in disbelief, though he was able to turn a gasp into a simple throat clearing.

" _Hey Sneaker,_

 _I've attached something special just for you. Let's get together, and reminisce. Let me know a date and time you're available, and I'll give you the place._

 _SYS,_

 _Blitz"_

Chuck took a deep breath and clicked on the video attachment already knowing what he would see.

A video window popped up and played a short clip of a young man with shoulder-length light brown hair wearing a non-descript black bike helmet. He was using bolt cutters to remove the locks from several expensive bikes while several others stood nearby ready to step in when the deed was done.

Each of them jumped on a bike, and took off in separate directions once the locks had been removed. The video froze, centered on the smiling face below the helmet. There were a few more lines, the hair was darker and much shorter. It was the same face he saw every morning in the mirror when he shaved, and at night when he brushed his teeth.

"Chuck, you okay?" Amelia asked with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

He felt his stomach heave, and swallowed to prevent it. "You could say that."

"Excuse me?"

"Could you cover for me a few minutes, Amelia?"

"Sure." Before she'd even responded, Chuck had bolted from the Control Room and ran down the stairs.

Amelia watched him go with a puzzled frown then noticed he'd left his workstation active. She only arrived on Atlantis recently, and didn't know him well, though she knew enough that it wasn't like him to be so careless. Against her better judgment, she read the cryptic email still displayed. After a quick look around, she played the video. It had obviously been taken by a concealed camcorder. The recording was slightly blurry, the movements jerky and uneven with the audio garbled in places indicating that it was at least a third-generation copy. Even so, Amelia recognized the voice, and there was no mistaking Chuck's face even though the video had been taken nearly eighteen years ago, according to the date stamp in the lower right corner.

It was hard not to keep from bursting out in laughter. _Chuck is terrified because he'd stolen_ bikes _?!_ _Son of a…_ He was the most _Canadian_ Canadian she ever met.

Amelia had hotwired her uncle's classic, and painstakingly restored Rangoon Red Mustang Convertible when she was fifteen. At sixteen, she'd built a fully functioning rocket for shop class. It misfired, and nearly burned down the boys' locker room. It was something she had in common with Chuck. In fact, most of the technicians and scientists on this base had FBI files for their previous work experience.

She'd heard something or other of bike theft rings operating in some of Canada's larger cities, but compared to McKay's past, bike stealing was laughable. Chuck didn't seem like the type to be involved in something criminal, though he'd obviously changed. Everyone at the SGC was subjected to an intense background check before an offer of employment was issued. _How could he have… ah, he never got_ caught!

Whomever this Blitz character was, she had Chuck running scared if he forgot something as important as locking his workstation. That just made the whole situation worrisome, as was the fact that Blitz had to be a woman. Why else would he be so upset? _This sounds like a lead-in to blackmail. I wonder what she wants._

Once she'd gotten past the stage of barely controlled laughter alternating with dread, she made the decision then and there to help him in any way possible. He had no idea how special he was. When they spoke he always looked at her face instead of aiming his words at her chest. If there was any way for her to help him with whatever this thing was, she'd do it, whether he wanted her to or not.

~~O~~

Chuck ran into the bathroom, slammed the door, and got his head over the commode just in time. When the vomiting finally stopped, his diaphragm, throat, and head ached. He went to the sink to splash cold water on his face. Cupping one hand under the stream he sucked in a mouthful of water swished it around then spit it out. He did this a few more times then grabbed a towel to dry his face and hands.

Now that the initial shock had eased, he could think a little more clearly, realizing that Blitz couldn't possibly know where he was or what he was involved in. She'd sent the email to an old address he'd never bothered to delete. It was part of the past he'd put behind him when he joined the service. At least he _thought_ he had.

"What does she _want_?" He asked his reflection. The brown eyes that usually sparkled with humor now darted side to side as if looking for escape. "Well, the only way you're gonna find out is to ask." He looked down at his hands, and realized that he'd twisted the towel into a knot. Tossing it aside, he exited the bathroom, and returned to the Gate Room.

When he arrived back at his post, Amelia and the other techs were tapping industriously at their workstations or involved in intense conversations, and didn't even look up when he seated himself at his station. He jumped up with a yelp when he felt a sharp poke in his backside.

Looking down, he saw the broken tines of a disposable fork. A noise that sounded suspiciously like stifled laughter came from his right. He picked up the pieces, sat down again, and looked over his shoulder. "Funny, Banks. You tryin' to get a 'rise' out of me?"

The American tried and failed to suppress her laughter. It escaped and swirled around him cheering him up against his will. "Just tryin' to liven things up around here, Campbell. I'm _bored._ "

"You'd rather have uninvited guests drop by to make life a little more interesting?"

"It would make a nice change from the mass amnesia caused by the mutated kid's disease, and the quarantine lockdown."

Chuck shrugged. "You're right. It _has_ been a slow month without the Wraith buzzing around." He entered his password to unlock his station. "I'll see what I can do to make things a little more stimulating around here."

"If you could do that sooner rather than later, I'd appreciate it."

"No promises." He opened the file he needed for the project that Carter had assigned him, and got to work. Blitz could wait a few more hours. Besides, he wasn't sure what to say to her yet.

 **The Mess Hall**

 **Later That Day**

Amelia watched Chuck from across the room. He had a tray in front of him, but was just pushing the food around with a fork. She ran down her mental list of reasons why he should accept the help of someone he barely knew, and headed across the room. _It's a good thing he's alone_ , she thought. _I wouldn't wanna have this talk in front of his friends, 'cause I'm sure he doesn't want anyone else to know._

~~O~~

Chuck cut up his meatloaf then smashed it into mush. He thought about adding the potatoes and carrots to the mess to see what happened, but didn't. The fork clattered the plate, and he pushed the tray away.

With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his eyes then pushed his hands through his hair making it stand up in imitation of Colonel Sheppard's unruly mop. His stomach and throat were still sore from earlier, and just thinking about eating made his stomach clench. In retrospect, he should have gotten the soup and Jell-O. Closing his eyes and trying not to think about, well, what he'd been thinking about since this morning.

When he opened them again, Amelia was standing in front of him, tray in hand. He gestured for her to join him, and took the seat directly across. She laid her napkin in her lap, and without a word, passed him a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, his favorite, and a bowl of Jell-O. He smiled his thanks as he scooped up a spoonful, purposely slurping the noodles, making Amelia roll her eyes. She cut a piece of meatloaf and stuck in her mouth, watching him intently while she chewed.

"What?" The senior Gate Tech finally asked.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that we've worked together for a few weeks now, and I know almost nothing about you."

"Really? A few weeks? Is _that_ all it's been? Seems a _lot_ longer." He teased her with a small smile, and she stuck her tongue out at him. _She has a way of cheering me up no matter how bad things are._ "What d'you want to know?"

"The basics, to start. Where'd you grow up?"

"Calgary, Alberta."

"Where did you go to college? What degree or degrees do you have?" She stirred her mashed potatoes and gravy, and took a generous bite.

"Ryerson University, Toronto. Computer Science, Electrical and Mechanical Engineering-Master's in each."

"Brothers? Sisters? Older? Younger?"

"One brother, two sisters, all older." He watched her for some indication of why she was asking personal questions but she gave nothing away. "And you want to know this because…?"

"Curiosity. Pets?"

"A dog. Dumb as a bag of rocks, but lovable. Died years ago, and was never replaced."

"Parents?"

With somewhat more of his usual twinkle he said, "Two. One of each." At her eye roll and pointed stare, he added, "Dad's gone, but mom's still around."

She couldn't help but smile at him making a joke even with something hanging over his head. "What did your dad do?"

He paused while he decided how to answer that question. His family had had a major reversal of fortune when he was eight and their entire lifestyle had changed. "He was self-employed as a contractor."

Not exactly a lie. Dad had used the knowledge he'd gained from his construction-worker father while growing up, took classes at the community college and bluffed his way into his first few projects after losing his position as VP of a prestigious corporation.

"Ex-wife or ex- _wives_? Kids?"

Laughing out loud for the first time since that morning he said, "No, no, and _no_. At least none that I know of. Kids, that is." He waited, but she didn't continue, just watched him with her unwavering light brown stare. She did that to everyone, and he was getting used to it, sort of.

He thought she was very pretty, especially now with her hair loose around her shoulders instead of in the bun she wore on duty. There seemed to be a little sparkage between them, but he was leery of getting involved with someone he worked with. If it went badly, they'd still have to work together, and it would be awkward. Besides, he'd rather have her as a friend.

"High school sweetheart?"

He hesitated before answering. "Yes." His throat was dry, so he took a long drink of iced tea. "Any more questions, 'Detective'?"

"Yeah. Who's Blitz?"

Chuck just stared at her for a long time then his eyes dropped to his lap as he rubbed his hands together. He took a deep breath, not wanting to answer, but knew she wouldn't let him not. "She's an old friend."

"That's code for 'she's my ex.' You didn't ask how I knew about…"

"I left my workstation active when I went to the bathroom. You obviously read the email, watched the video." She shrugged, and nodded unrepentantly. "You want the whole story?"

Amelia took a drink of her lemonade, and replaced the glass on the table with a thump making the ice rattle. "How else am I gonna help?"

~~O~~

Chuck sighed with resignation and pushed his chair back. "Okay, but not here. I know a place we can go where we won't be disturbed."

"Lead the way." Amelia stood, and followed him out just as Captain Alicia Vega entered.

~~O~~

Alicia saw her buddy Chuck, and the newest Gate Tech, Sergeant Banks, leaving by the patio door. She'd never seen them alone together, and wondered for a moment if they were on a booty call, though their body language said otherwise. It wasn't in Chuck's nature to jump into bed with someone he hardly knew. _Only one way to find out for sure._ She followed them down the corridor where she waited in the shadows until they'd descended the stairs before tiptoeing after them. They just kept walking and walking avoiding the transports though they'd passed several.

She was just about to give up when the pair stopped in front of a lab that had been cleared just the day before by Doctor McKay's staff. Chuck pulled the access panel off and rearranged the crystals. The door opened. They entered, and it shut again.

No longer being covert, Alicia stepped up to the now closed door, and pressed her ear against it. Two distinct voices could be heard, but not the individual words. Something hinky was going on, and she was determined to find out what, but wouldn't interrupt them, just in case she'd completely misread the signs. Besides, she'd get it out of Chuck later, or else.

 **Thirty Minutes Later**

"You have to _tell_ someone." Chuck and Amelia were sitting across from each other on the floor of the unused lab, him against the wall, and her against the base of the consol.

"That's not all."

"Is it as bad as…" Amelia snickered, "…stealing bikes?"

"I also did a little, uh…" he couldn't meet her eyes, "…hacking into the systems of some of North America's largest corporations."

"What?!" The American's face showed her shock.

"I never stole anything, just poked around a bit, then got out. For practice."

"Well, it worked. You're _good!_ " She reached out and nudged him with her foot. "Don't they have a special prison where the people who commit international crimes check in, but they never check out?" He shrugged. "What if the IOA finds out you lied?"

"Lied? I didn't…"

"Chuck, you _lied._ Just because you didn't get caught doesn't make it okay."

"I know. I know!" He said reluctantly as he looked down at his hands. "I just, I wanted to put it all behind me, and joining the service was a way to start fresh. I was, and still am, ashamed of the things I did just to make a buck. It may sound cliché, but Atlantis is the first place I've felt like I belonged in a really long time."

Amelia tapped his foot with hers. "You think you're the only one who needed to get away from a less than pristine past?" She let that thought hang in the air without resolving the questions she saw in his eyes. He wouldn't ask them now, she knew that much about him, but one day when she least expected it, _Wham!_ he'd blindside her with a Quid Pro Quo. And because he was her friend, she'll tell all. But she couldn't think about that right now. This was about _him_.

"So, you think I should…"

"…talk to Sheppard."

Before Chuck could formulate a response, a voice buzzed in his ear. " _Colonel Sheppard to Sergeant Campbell_."

"Hmph. Speak of the devil," he said under his breath before tapping his headset. "Campbell."

" _I need a meet with you in my office ASAP_."

"On my way, sir."

 **Sheppard's Office**

Chuck activated the chime for Sheppard's office, and was motioned in. He gestured, and Chuck seated himself in the visitor's chair. The Colonel poured a cup of coffee, and offered his guest one, which was declined. His stomach was still clenching, and he didn't trust the hot liquid to stay down. Sheppard took a long drink, and set the cup down, but before he could speak Chuck blurted out, "I know what this is about, sir."

The dark-haired looked taken aback. "You _do?_ "

"Yes, sir. I lied, and I'm ready to make a full confession."

"You _are?_ " One dark eyebrow was raised in confusion.

Chuck hoped that his pre-emptive confession would lower the penalty, as if ten years in a special brig at Area 51 was any better than _twenty_. "Yes, sir."

Sheppard shook his finger. " _You're_ the one who switched McKay's coffee to decaf. Brilliant!"

Chuck blinked rapidly a few times. "No, sir. But whoever did, is a lunatic."

The Colonel was still grinning, until he noticed that Chuck had stayed silent. "What's the confession then?"

Chuck sighed, leaned forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his knees, and told his superior officer the entire tale. He left nothing out, reciting word-for-word, the email he'd received that morning, and theorizing what Blitz might want from him. Sitting up straight with his head held high, he said solemnly, "I'm sorry I lied, sir. It's been an honor to work with all the fine people on this expedition. I am ready to accept whatever punishment you deem fair."

The Colonel was dumbfounded. His eyes searched Chuck's face, probably waiting for the punchline. "Are you _serious?_ "

The Gate Tech nodded tersely. He wanted to face the music like a man. "Yes, sir. Every word. I'd rather admit it, and take my punishment, than do anything against the SGC or Atlantis."

Sheppard stared at him, his hands folded on the desk, his face carefully impassive though a twinkle of humor still glinted in his eyes. "This is a joke, isn't it? You and McKay are pulling some elaborate Canadian joke on me, aren't you?" His eyes quickly scanned the room. "Where's the video feed?"

"It's no joke, sir." Chuck couldn't believe it. _Isn't the truth supposed to set you free not cause laughter?_

"You've been here from day one. You're also one of the few people I trust completely. Stealing a few bikes to pay for college is _not_ an issue. We all have something in our youth that we regret, or are ashamed of. _McKay_ made a nuclear bomb for his grade six science project, for Pete's sake."

"Yes. I heard." That still didn't change the fact that Chuck had committed crimes.

"Did you also hear that it was _that_ incident that brought him to the attention of the SGC? They watched him for _years_ without his knowledge before they offered him a position."

"I committed criminal acts, and planned on turning myself in." Chuck insisted. "But I let Blitz and Shades talk me out of it. After graduation, I went to work for one of the companies I'd hacked. I built them a much more secure system, and was highly praised for my work. But I was restless, and antsy. I just _knew_ they'd find out what I'd done, and that would be the end of the corner office, the personal assistant, and dinners at the most exclusive restaurants in town." He rubbed his hands together. "I joined the RCAF, hoping I could put it all behind me. And I did, until today."

Sheppard began chuckling in earnest. "Enough joking around, Sarge. Tell McKay that next time he should choose a _real_ crime, like jacking a car, or armed robbery."

The Canadian was upset that Sheppard would not believe him. He came to his feet, leaning both hands on the desk, his face close to the Colonel's. "It's. Not. A. Joke. _Sir!"_ A flash drive appeared in his hand. He slid it across the desk, but Sheppard just looked at it as if it would bite.

The humor on Sheppard's face fled as quickly as it arrived, replaced by awe and wonder, making laughter an improper response. "You really are serious. You're worried about having stolen a few bikes to pay for your college education because your family was in dire straights when half the people on this base were once considered threats to national security!"

When he put it that way, Chuck could finally see the humor. His sat down again, his mouth quirked up on one side. "Even so, sir, Blitz _could_ cause trouble."

Sheppard agreed with a nod. "Instead of prosecuting you we'd like your _help_ with something. Someone tried to hack into the SCG on three separate occasions in the last month." He passed a tablet to Chuck so he could view the information. "We've only been able to track them as far as Toronto, Ontario, which brings me to why I called you _._ Colonel Carter and I would like you to go undercover, locate the people doing this, and gather all the evidence we need to prosecute them."

"Me, sir?" Now it was Chuck's turn to be flabbergasted. He'd come here to confess his sins, and was being asked to take part in an undercover operation.

"You'll need to take a partner in order to comply with the regs…" Sheppard let his voice trail off when Chuck sat up straighter.

"I recognize this coding, Colonel. It's been a long time but…"

Sheppard sighed loudly. "Don't tell me. It's…"

"Blitz. Yes, sir." He was still scanning the info collected from the hack attempts, but he didn't need to see everything. "I can't pass up the opportunity to put away the woman who got me involved in…"

Suddenly it all made sense to the Colonel. " _Blitz_ is a _woman?_ " Chuck blushed, and nodded. "Well, you aren't the first man to do something hinky because of a woman, and you certainly won't be the last, Sarge."

They spent the next three hours mapping out a plan to catch Blitz and her cohorts. Chuck was certain that she had a partner, maybe more than one, and he was more than happy to help bring her to justice. Her partner was probably a man she'd wrapped around her finger just as he'd been, at one time.

Once they completed their plans, Sheppard sent the info to Chuck's workstation. From there, he would send it to his non-networked tablet so he could commit it to memory. The plan was for he and his partner to leave for Earth within three days. "Sir, who're you sending with me?"

"We thought long and hard on it. You'll need someone who knows computers, _and_ can kick some serious butt." He tapped the screen again. "Sergeant Amelia Banks, USAF. Just got here a few weeks ago. An expert in several forms of martial arts, and kickboxing. She also knows computers almost as well as you. A real triple threat."

"Triple threat, sir?"

"Yeah, brains, beauty _and_ brawn." Chuck gave him a halfhearted smile, and turned to go, stopping at Sheppard's next remark. "One more question. What's Blitz's real name?"

 **TBC**


	3. The Creation of the Chuck

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 2**

 **The Creation of the Chuck**

 **Colonel Carter's Office**

 **Later That Same Day**

"Um, what?" Carter's jaw dropped open. If it hadn't been securely fastened to her head, it would have hit the floor.

"That's what he said, and I believe him." Sheppard was next to Carter's chair with his hips leaning on the desk. She was turned toward him, her chair tilted back, rocking slightly. "He showed me a video."

"And you're still sending him on this op?" Her blue eyes telegraphed her disbelief.

"Of course." His tone said it should have been a given. "Well, he said he was sorry…"

Carter smirked. "…in that cute Canadian way?"

"I wouldn't have put it _quite_ like that, but yeah." He pushed off the desk and gestured with both hands. "His family didn't have much money. That's how he paid for the part of his education not covered by scholarships or grants. An education that _we_ make use of on a daily basis, I might add. We already trust him with everything to do with Atlantis, and he has proven himself admirably since the beginning. He can _do_ this."

Carter conceded. "When are they leaving?"

"He's gonna send an email to his contact today. We're looking at two, maybe three days at most to get everything set up here _and_ at the SGC. Doc Jackson is helping, and General Landry is running interference with the IOA." His mouth tried to grin. He made a supreme effort to stop, but it was a losing battle.

Carter sighed. "What?"

"What what?" Sheppard tried to look innocent, but Carter knew him and wasn't buying it.

"That _look_."

"What look? I don't have any special look."

"John!" Her tone was a gentle reprimand, and her smile deviously sweet.

He pretended to finally get it because Carter with a shrewd smile was much too dangerous to ignore. " _Oh_ , you mean the there's-something-I'm-not-telling-you-and-you're-gonna-love-it look?"

"Yeah, that one."

"It's his contact's _real_ name." He tried to keep a straight face while he told his superior Blitz's given name, and they both dissolved into spasms of hilarity.

~~O~~

Amelia turned to watch Sheppard and Carter laughing hysterically inside the Colonel's not-so-soundproof glass enclosed office. Her own brows were pinched in confusion. "Hey, Campbell, whatdya think they're talkin' about that's so funny?"

The Senior Gate Tech followed her gaze and smiled. "I'm guessing he just told her Blitz's real name."

He knew it was coming, and Amelia obliged him by giggling. "Oh, _God_ , I can't wait to meet her!"

His smile faded away. "I'm glad _one_ of us is happy about this."

"Oh, come _on._ This is your chance to put the spirits of indiscretions past to rest. Unfortunately, you can't use a proton pack to get rid of these kinds of ghosts." She walked over and stood in front of him looking up into his brown eyes. "That's why you have _me_."

"And I am more grateful than I can _ever_ express." Chuck's smile returned. He lowered his voice, and leaned close. "If it wouldn't look unprofessional, do you know what I'd do to you right now?"

Amelia's face twisted in thought. "Give me noogies?"

He laughed out loud. "Exactly!"

The USAF Sergeant scurried back to her workstation. "Have to _catch_ me first!"

~~O~~

Chuck sat at the desk in his quarters, his non-networked tablet beside him with his and Sheppard's grand plan for catching Blitz and her team. He was trying to compose an email that would be informative, yet vague. He decided to be short, and to the point just as she had been.

" _Blitz,_

 _To say that I was surprised to hear from you after so long would be an understatement! Let's meet at The Coffee Shoppe this coming Thursday at the usual time. We can talk over old times and catch up._

 _TTYS,_

 _Sneaker"_

His hand hovered over the send key then tapped it quickly, before he could change his mind. He wanted to do this, to give back in some small way to the people he'd been lying to for all these years. This undercover op was how he would make peace with himself, at least partially. He would use this opportunity to justify the faith of Colonels Carter and Sheppard as well as the rest of the expedition.

Going into the bathroom he showered, brushed and flossed his teeth then stood looking at his reflection. Holding up an imaginary gun in both hands he said, "Campbell. Charles Campbell, intergalactic spy, and all around good guy, at your service." He blew on the end of his "gun", and laughed at himself as he went into the bedroom, changed into his pj's, and went to bed.

He was just about to drop off when a loud banging brought him to a sitting position. _What the hell…?_ Kicking the covers off, he padded to the door in his bare feet. The door slid open to show the less than thrilled face of his friend, Alicia Vega.

"Leesh, it's 0130. What…"

"Cut the small talk, _Sergeant!_ I wanna know what's going on with you, the Colonels and that…newbie!" Chuck could only stare as the dark-haired woman pushed past him into the room without an invitation. "Now!" He offered her a seat and she sat down with her knees and arms crossed obstinately. "Well?"

"It's a long story." Chuck sat on the side of the bed, yawned and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

"Then just give me the, oh, ****. What'd you call it? The Cole's Notes version. I've got a mission in the morning, and need my beauty sleep." Chuck opened his mouth to make a smart remark but she raised a finger in warning. He smiled and began telling his story for the third time in the last twenty-four hours.

~~O~~

"…We leave in two days."

Vega was quiet for all of five seconds. "You think Sheppard's still up?"

"Why?"

I'm coming with you."

She reached for her headset, and he grabbed her hand. "No! He can't know that I told you. I just gave you _classified_ information. I've _never_ done that before for _any_ reason, and I'm only telling you now because I trust you to keep it _quiet_. And you might hurt me if I don't. Sheppard or Carter finds out, and it might just be the straw that breaks the Colonel's backs. I really _will_ end up in prison, or worse."

" _Cabeza de Camote!_ What can be worse than _prison?_ "

Chuck wished she would stop using Spanish phrases. He never knew if he should be flattered, insulted, or offended. Though from her expression it was the latter. "If I went to prison, I'd at least be with strangers, and wouldn't see the disappointment on the faces of my family and friends, people who trusted me _not_ to lie to them. _That_ would be worse than prison."

Reluctantly, Vega gave in. " _Tiene un punto_." She grabbed his tablet, quickly tapped a few keys, and handed it back.

What she'd written confused him. "What's a Dusty Mehra?"

" _She's_ a friend, an Air Force Sergeant with the SGC. You might need some muscle while you're there. Call her. She's on a month's leave, and loves a good fight. She's also a bit of a talker so, if she gets on your nerves, just give her some gum when you wanna shut her up."

"Okay. Thanks." They stood and he walked her to the door. Over his shoulder on the desk she could see a giant unopened brown bottle with a white label. _Ay dios mio!_ _He's got a Texas Mickey!_

" _Da nada, Borrachito!_ " He didn't know what she'd said now or before, and was too tired to ask. He waved as she disappeared around the corner, and went back to bed. It was strange, but he was feeling better than before she'd disturbed him. It was good to have friends.

 **Three Days Later**

Chuck looked at his reflection in the mirror. For almost four years he'd worn nothing but his uniform or khakis and a plain t-shirt. It was odd to see himself in blue jeans, a t-shirt with "May the _m x a_ be with you!" emblazoned across the front, black motorcycle boots, and a hooded jacket. He kept telling himself to forget his service training and just chill. It was a work in progress. _Amelia's better at this than me. I'm gonna trash the entire operation by saying something stupid. I just know it._

He picked up his bags, and headed for the Gate Room.

~~O~~

Amelia hefted her bag, and went to stand next to her friend, and co-conspirator. She was dressed similarly to him in a plain white long-sleeved top with a scooped neck, and her hair in a pony tail. Usually her ears were unadorned, but now she had huge hoops in them as well as a braided chain necklace.

Carter and Sheppard were there to see them off. "Good luck." Carter shook hands with them. "And remember, Sergeants, this op is like a parachute…"

"…it has to work the first time," Sheppard finished for her.

"Yes, ma'am, sir," Chuck responded, and Amelia nodded.

Their commander nodded to the staff members who were taking their places, and one by one the chevrons engaged. A whoosh, and it was time to go. Chuck and Amelia walked toward the 'gate, and through the blue puddle illusion. The 'gate shut down, Carter and Sheppard shared a look, and then went their separate ways.

 **SGC - Cheyenne Mountain Complex**

 **Earth**

Chuck and Amelia were met by Walter Harriman, who conducted them to the briefing room. Chuck told Landry everything he knew about Blitz and why he thought she wanted to break into the SGC's data systems. Landry had a hard copy printed from the information sent by Carter, though he preferred to hear it first hand.

Landry and Walter took turns going over their part of the plan that included what type of information they would be allowing Chuck to "steal" on behalf of Blitz and her team, and how he would go about "hacking" it. The information was mostly obsolete, on the verge of being declassified by the US government. They agreed on a cover story for where Chuck had been the last few years, a story that caused more than a few facepalms, then were given phones and computers.

Walter took them to the plane that would take them to New York where they would then drive to Little Falls to meet with Dusty. First, they had to find out if she would help.

Once on the tarmac, Chuck dialed the number he'd committed to memory. "Hello. My name is Chuck. May I please speak to Dusty? Dusty? My name is Chuck. I'm a friend of Alicia Vega… She said you might be up for a little adventure... We're… Don't you want details? Uh, okay… Make sure your passport is in order, pack your civvies, and we'll pick you up… We'll call when we get close."

~~O~~

Hours later, Amelia was driving the black SUV while Chuck called Dusty. She could only hear his side of the conversation again, and it bugged the **** out of her. Her foot came down on the gas in annoyance, pushing their speed past eighty.

"… We're almost there… Amelia… 1300… Thanks again for your help." He ended the call, and tucked the phone into his jacket pocket.

"Do we _really_ need more muscle? You and I can handle anything that comes up. Who _is_ she anyway?"

He shrugged. "Leesh wanted to come, but couldn't get away, so she suggested Dusty. I didn't ask, but I think she's a cousin. And I'm not casting aspersions upon your ability to kick ass, Banks. _You_ know you're good, _I_ know you're good, but we don't want _them_ to know it until we absolutely have to." He popped the top on a bottle of water and took a swig. "Think of her as back-up. While you and I are getting the goods on them, she can be keeping an eye on any muscle _they_ have."

She was appeased by his explanation, and her foot eased off the gas, allowing the car to slow down to a speed closer to the limit. "Nice save, Campbell. There's a part of our story that needs work. We need to stop callin' each other 'Banks' and 'Campbell.' Our cover is that we were discharged from the service because we got caught having sex on the commander's desk."

Chuck winced, and resisted laughing, but not by much. "Yeah. So?"

Amelia snickered. General Hank Landry had a twisted sense of humor. "We're still together so we obviously have…" she took her hands off the steering wheel for a split second to make air quotes "…feelings for each other. How about pet names?"

He shrugged again. "Okay. What do you suggest?"

Amelia's face twisted as she tried not to smile. "What if I call you Mountie?"

"Not lovin' it, but I'll take it. And I'll call you Spunky!"

She eyed him suspiciously. "As long as it's just for the mission."

"Got it, Banks. I mean, Spunky."

"Any time, Mountie."

 **The Mehra Home**

 **Little Falls, New York**

They pulled up in front of a white two-story house with a pine shingle roof, and wrap-around porches on both floors. The yard was neat, and a dog of indeterminate parentage and age lounged in the grass not far from an orange tabby whose tail swished lazily back and forth in the early afternoon sunshine. Lots of work and love went into the care of this home.

Amelia parked the car. They got out, and climbed the steps to knock on the screen door. It was answered almost immediately by a slender, fiftyish woman. She had short black hair shot with strands of white. She was wearing khaki slacks, an ancient Columbia University sweatshirt and work boots. A bright smile lit up her face. "Hello."

"My name is Chuck. Dusty is expecting us." Chuck indicated his companion. "This is Amelia." They shook hands all around.

"I'm pleased to meet you. Dusty seldom brings her friends to the house. She's in the back tending the garden. Please go around."

"Thank you, ma'am."

The Atlanteans went to the back of the house, and saw a young woman with long dark hair using a hose to spray water over a small cultivated area. She went to the faucet, turned off the water, and curled the flexible green tube around the reel.

Chuck called out, "Dusty?"

"Chuck." Amelia pointed to her ears, indicating Dusty was wearing earbuds.

He nodded and reached out to tap her on the shoulder. He'd taken a few sparring lessons in addition to what he'd been taught by the RCAF, and had been trained to handle odd situations, but none of that mattered now. Suddenly, he seemed to slip the surly bonds of Earth landing hard on his stomach. All the air in his lungs whooshed out on impact.

" _Gandu!"_

He heard what sounded like an epithet just as the world went dark, or rather dark orange. He groaned when he was flipped onto his back, and a moderately heavy weight settled on his stomach. His protest died when he felt cold metal against his throat, and smelled the pleasant scent of pumpkin however, a nasty sort of wetness on his head, neck and face made him gag in disgust.

"Whoa! Stop! Stop!" Amelia got the woman in a half-nelson pulling her off of her friend. The earbuds popped out, and Dusty dropped the garden shears with which she'd nearly stabbed him in the throat. "That's Chuck, and I'm Amelia!"

"Force of habit." She snickered, not sounding sorry at all. "You can let go now."

"What? Oh!" Amelia released the other woman and they looked down at the man on the ground still moaning. He'd been flipped head first into a large pumpkin that now surrounded his entire head like a helmet, making him look like a comical version of the Headless Horseman. "Look! It's a Chuck-o'-lantern!" Amelia said in between gasps of laughter.

"Very funny, Banks." His muffled voice was laced with irritation. He reached up to pull the gourd off, but it was stuck. "Get this thing off me!"

Before they could move to help him a loud and angry female voice came to them from the back door. "Dulari! What have I told you about attacking our guests?"

"Sorry, _mataji_ …" Dusty brought her chin up in defiance, "…but _he_ snuck up on me and…"

The woman who'd met them when they arrived, came down the stairs, dropped to her knees next to Chuck and, with shocking strength for someone so small, removed the gourd from his head. Pulp and seeds were stuck to his face and ears and in his hair. Dusty's mother scooped most of it off then got to her feet. "Don't just stand there, child. Help him up, and bring him into the house."

Both women hurried to comply, and she addressed the tall man as she held the door, "I'm sorry. We're proud of our daughter, but my Dusty is such a _sher_ , a lion. Last week, it was the mailman. The week before, the package delivery man. Now we must go to the post office in town for our mail and packages. That's where her _pitaji_ is now. He'll be staying in town with his friends, and won't be home for several hours." She kept up a steady dialogue as she took Chuck's arm and steered him to a downstairs bathroom.

"It's fine, Mrs. Mehra. It was my fault."

Amelia went to the SUV, and brought in his bag while Dusty stood unrepentant in the hallway. "See? He _admits_ it was _his fault!_ "

Dusty's mother gave her the classic "talk to the hand" gesture, and turned back to the Canadian. "Take a shower, and change. When you're through, Dusty will wash your clothes while you and your friend join me for lunch. _Keema Biryani_. My specialty."

"That's not necessary, ma'am. We don't want to be any trouble," Amelia said as she heard the water running behind the closed bathroom door.

"Nonsense. And please call me Ashwina." She bustled toward the back of the house, and the radio came on, tuned to a classic rock station. They heard singing then the oven door opened. The two young women shared a glance then went to the kitchen to help with the meal preparations.

 **The Truck Stop**

 **Syracuse, New York**

Chuck eased off the gas as he crossed into the Syracuse city limits. In the back seat, Dusty was _still_ talking. She'd been talking almost non-stop since they left Little Falls, about everything. Her parents, her brother who lived in Los Angeles with his wife and three kids, her dog, her cat, her training in the Air Force, the weather, the other drivers, her best friend from grade school who moved away when she was ten, the chickens her parents kept, canning strawberry jam. You name it, she talked about it. He suddenly braked, jerked the wheel to the left, and pulled into a truck stop. Unhooking his seatbelt, he passed his credit card to Amelia. "Would you…"

"Sure." Amelia got out to fill the tank. Dusty jumped out, and followed Chuck inside, _still talking_. He had no idea _what_ she was talking about now because he'd stopped listening as they passed through Utica but the noise was grating on his nerves and probably Amelia's, too. He'd finally remembered a piece of advice Alicia had given him and went straight to the candy aisle. Grabbing several handfuls of different types and flavors of gum he made his way to the counter.

Amelia came in, went to the cooler and grabbed a bottle of vitamin enriched water. She walked up behind Chuck and Dusty, and added it to the chips, candy bars, bottles of water and packs of gum. Finally, he couldn't stand it another minute. He grabbed the biggest pack of gum, and waved it under her nose. "Here. Have some."

Dusty smiled. "Mmm. My favorite!" She grabbed the pack, pulled out three pieces and popped them in her mouth. And blessed silence descended.

Amelia leaned close to whisper in his ear, " _You_ are a genius!"

"Yes, but no. It was Alicia's idea."

The American slapped him on the shoulder. " _Why_ didn't you do this sooner?"

He whispered back, "Because my mind went numb about an hour outside of Little Falls."

A loud, unholy _POP_ sounded behind them and they turned to see Dusty peeling gum from the area surrounding her lips. "Sorry. Might have gotten a little in your hair."

Amelia's hand instantly went to her ponytail feeling for the sticky substance.

"In Chucky Cheese's hair," She said with a snort.

Chuck winced as his hand went to the back of his head, feeling small lumps. "Great! That's just great! _You_ are riding shotgun from now on!"

He turned to further reprimand Dusty, but she was gone. A minute later she appeared with a zipper bag of ice. "This will get rid of it. I'll drive." She turned to Amelia. "You help him."

Both gapped at her stupidly.

"Ice the gum for fifteen minutes, and it comes right out. You'll be back behind the wheel drivin' like a little old lady again before you know it, Chuckster." She reached into his jacket pocket for the keys, blew another bubble, and headed for the SUV. "Driver picks the music. Everyone else can like it or get out and walk." At the door, she turned to see that neither of them had moved. Motioning for them to hurry, she added, "We're on a deadline here. Remember?"

Chuck paid for their purchases, and followed the women to the SUV. He and Amelia did as Dusty suggested and got in the back seat together. As she pulled onto I-90 headed west she said, "Since the two of you're supposed to be burnin' the sheet together I won't mind if you wanna practice makin' out." She blew another bubble as she adjusted the mirror so it was pointed into the back seat. "Promise not to watch."

 **TBC**


	4. You Don't Know Chuck

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 3**

 **You Don't Know Chuck**

 **The Blue Moon Motel**

 **Niagara Falls, New York**

"We need to talk, Chuckie."

"What _now_ , Dusty?"

The television clicked off. "You and Amelia are supposed to be, you know…" She made an obscene gesture that involved the use of her entire body.

"And?"

" _And_ you need to be comfortable with touchin' each other in public, and I don't mean just holdin' hands. Right now, the two of you act like you barely _like_ each other, much less…" She wiggled her eyebrows significantly. "You need to practice being affectionate in public."

She had a point, and Chuck knew it. "I've never cared for public displays of affection, so, in addition to holding hands, some hugging, arms around each other's waist or shoulders when the situation calls for it, and the occasional kiss of no more than three-seconds duration. Agreed?"

"Agreed." He and Amelia shook on it.

Dusty was on her feet in a millisecond. "Okay. That's _it!_ You two act like this is a business deal. You're supposed to be in _love_." She stood, slipped her jacket on, and went to the door. "Come on."

They followed her with puzzled frowns. "Where're we going?"

" _We_ are goin' on a date." Dusty's jaws worked her gum energetically.

"The three of us?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah. If you can convince _me_ you're a couple, you can convince this Blitz person."

Again, Chuck asked, "So?"

"So, convince me."

 **The Backyard Pub and BBQ Grill**

 **Chicken, Ribs, Pulled Pork, Wings,**

 **Games, Sports, Live Music, and Dancing**

The place was a riot of noise. Music, televisions and human voices combined to make chaos theory seem easy to understand. The light and sound assaulted their senses at first, though it didn't take long to get used to it.

Around the bar, plasma screens were strategically placed, showing a variety of professional sports games. Off to the left, were pool tables, foosball, darts, and any number of video games. To the right was a dance floor with a live band. At the moment, they were playing a swinging country western tune. The floor was full, but not overly crowded.

Dusty led them to a table close to both the bar and the dance floor, then ordered beers, wings and potato skins. Amelia looked at the food with mild disgust. She didn't often eat fried food, but there didn't seem to be much choice. And she was hungry.

Reaching for a wing she took a bite then a swig of beer to calm the fire on her tongue. Chuck was sitting next to her doing the same, though the spiciness didn't seem to bother him.

They'd been there about thirty minutes, eating and talking, when Dusty said, "Get up and dance."

"Dance?" Chuck and Amelia said in unison.

"Yes. You gotta get used to being close, and dancing is a good way to do that. Personally, I would go for sparring or wrestling, but then _I_ don't have to convince Blitz."

Chuck reluctantly stood up. Amelia looked up at him. He looked back, shrugged, and extended his hand.

Dusty stared at the two of them and sighed. She took Amelia's hand, and placed it in Chuck's. Grabbing his free hand, she led them out to the dance floor. When they made no move toward each other, the Sergeant said, "Oh, for ****'s sake!" and pushed Amelia with enough force to cause her to stumble against Chuck. He started to topple over backward, and both arms went around her waist to keep them from falling. Amelia's hands came up to grip his shoulders, the front of her body now touching his from stomach to thighs. "There ya go. And don't look so scared. This is what supposedly got you thrown out of the service. You're supposed to _like_ it!" After a couple of minutes, they began to relax. "You look like you're on the worst first date ever."

Dusty sat down to watch her new friends, waiting for a sign that this was working.

~~O~~

"Just don't get any ideas, Chuck." Amelia told him with a smirk. Eventually Chuck's hands on her waist relaxed, and dropped down to rest on the top curve of her butt. His shoulders, which had been bunched up around his ears, came down to their normal position, and his knees unlocked.

Amelia's hands on his shoulders relaxed their grip, and she flexed them a few times on the soft cotton of his long-sleeved t-shirt. Her shoulders relaxed, and her upper body curved in until her chest touched his. With a wink at Dusty she lightly drew a finger across his neck just below his left ear. It tickled, and he tried to get away, but her hand followed relentlessly.

"Me? You're the one who's…" She brought her foot down on his. "Ow! You did that on purpose."

She hooked one arm around his neck, and leaned into him even more. "I'm _acting!_ "

"So am I." His foot came down on hers, though more gently then a hand slipped down to caress one butt cheek.

"Grabbing my ass is _not_ acting."

"Yes, it is, because I'm acting as if I like it."

Chuck led Amelia in a gentle side to side shuffle, and turn in time to the music. When they moved out of Dusty's sight, his left hand moved from Amelia's back to take her right hand, and bring them into the classic dance pose, his other hand moving to the middle of her lower back. Her shirt had pulled up, and he could feel the skin of her back, and the ridges of her spine. Their movements became more fluid and less mechanical the longer they danced.

Feeling daring he spun her once under his left arm startling a small laugh out of her before bringing her back into his arms. The song ended and he leaned her into a shallow dip.

By silent agreement they danced the next couple of songs then sat down. Dusty blew a bubble and let it pop. "Better, but not perfect. Finish your beer, have something to eat, and try again."

~~O~~

Dusty got up to get them more beer, chatting with a 30-ish man in tight jeans and a Yankees cap who obviously thought himself a lady's man. Amelia leaned close to Chuck so she could hear over the music.

To anyone watching, they looked like a couple being lightly affectionate in public. Dusty watched them with one eye while pretending to listen to the man talk about something that she'd tuned out. She smiled as Amelia and Chuck got up to dance again without any urging on her part.

 _Yep, they're starting to look like a couple now. Who knows, maybe by the time this is over they_ will _be._

~~O~~

Dusty went back to talking to Yankees Cap, and didn't see Chuck and Amelia take their jackets, pay the tab, and slip out the front door. Outside, they hurried down the sidewalk, laughing at how easy it was to ditch their chaperone. They walked arm in arm for a while just talking and laughing, glad that they were no longer being watched by their new friend.

More than an hour later, they went back to the motel, and just as Amelia was about to slide the key card in the slot, the door was opened from the inside, showing a highly perturbed Dusty. "Where the _hell_ have you been? I can't believe you _ditched_ me. You should have been back over an _hour_ ago!"

"Nice to see you, too, Dusty," Chuck said as he took off his jacket and slung it over a chair.

"Yeah." Amelia added her voice. "Being watched all the time was making us nervous. Like having my mother or one of my sisters go with me on a date."

Dusty blew a bubble and sucked it back in while she watched them without blinking. "Okay. Well, the date is over now. I think you should kiss good-night."

Chuck and Amelia blushed then the Canadian responded after an embarrassed pause. "We'll, uh, leave that until it's absolutely necessary."

~~O~~

They took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. When Chuck came out, Dusty was already asleep on one of the double beds, wrapped up like a burrito, and sleeping catty-cornered, leaving no room for anyone else.

"What's this?"

Amelia couldn't meet his eyes. "She's forcing us to sleep in the same bed. Says it will make us even more comfortable with each other. I think she just wants to be able to laugh at us in the morning."

"Perfect," he exclaimed with heavy sarcasm. "Okay, you take the blanket and sheet, and I'll take the comforter."

"Deal."

They sorted out the covers, and lay down on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. There was at least a foot of space between them, though it felt like nothing. "This is ridiculous," Chuck whispered so he wouldn't wake the woman snoring lightly in the next bed. "We're adults, Amelia. We can sleep in the same bed without…"

"Right." She reached up to turn out the light then rolled onto her side facing away from him. "Good-night, Mountie."

"Sleep tight, Spunky." He rolled the other way so they were back to back, pulled the comforter up around his neck, and closed his eyes.

~~O~~

Amelia awoke to the smell of coffee, and a feeling of physical warmth that only comes from being pressed against another body. Dreading what she might see, she opened her eyes. She was staring at the back of Chuck's head, her body pressed tightly up against his with the sheet and blanket as a barrier. Very carefully she pulled her arm away, and rolled over.

Just as she was about to slip out from under the covers, he rolled over and wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her up against his chest. He buried his face against her neck, and she could feel his breath on her skin every time he exhaled.

Her slender fingers encircled his wrist, lifting his arm, attempting once more to get out of bed. As soon as she moved her legs one of his came up and over both of hers, effectively pinning her in place.

Amelia looked over shoulder when she heard a stifled snicker to see Dusty watching her with glee. She watched the other woman take a sip of coffee enviously while Dusty took great joy in her distress. She realized that the only way she would get out was if she woke Chuck up. While she contemplated doing just that she felt his exhalations on her neck change tempo, and vibrations all along her back.

She threw his arm off as he removed his leg from where it had trapped hers, and jumped out of bed. "That was _not_ funny, Campbell!"

"I thought it was _very_ funny. Didn't you, Dusty?" He rose up on one elbow, his hand extended with fingers curled under. Dusty and he bumped fists. They looked over at Amelia, and she was glaring at them with her arms crossed. "Oh, come on, _Spunky_. Come give your Mountie a great big good morning kiss." He held out both arms, and made loud kissing sounds.

She made a snort of annoyance, snatched up her bag, took the cup of coffee from Dusty's hand, then went into the bathroom and slammed the door.

~~O~~

After they'd all showered and had at least one cup of coffee, Chuck went to a large bag with the words Discount Clothing Emporium on the side. He tossed each of them a wad of material then slipped into a black leather car coat that ended at the tops of his thighs. He had on dark blue jeans and his black boots but had exchanged his t-shirt for a black turtleneck. With his short hair and the addition of the leather jacket he looked cool and casually sophisticated.

For Amelia, he'd gotten a matching women's jacket to further solidify their cover story. She was wearing unadorned black boots with two-inch heels that came to mid-calf. With her dark purple top, low-rise jeans and long brown hair with blonde highlights loose about her shoulders she looked…seductive and just a little bit dangerous. _Blitz will dislike her on sight!_ He thought with delight.

Dusty's jacket was also black but with zippered pockets at chest and waist. Her boots, on the other hand, were the ones she wore with her uniform. She too was in low-rise jeans topped with a pale green shirt that allowed her navel to show when she moved in just the right way…not that he was looking. He just happened to notice.

"Chuck! Where did you get these? They're amazing!" Amelia asked as she rubbed her hand over the butter soft material with a smile.

"Remember last night when you went next door to get souvenirs? While the two of you were perusing the gift shop I went to the discount store." He adjusted the collar and sleeves then ran a hand though his hair while looking in the mirror.

"They're great. Thanks." They gathered up their bags, made one last check of the room for personal items then went to the office to check out. After having breakfast at the diner attached to the motel they pulled out onto I-190 and headed for the border.

When they got within sight of the falls Dusty starting humming a kid's song and making comments about their make-believe relationship, even suggesting that they get the honeymoon suite when they got to Toronto. When that didn't seem to get a rise out of them she began to sing. "Amelia and Chucky sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…" The Atlanteans looked at each other, rolled their eyes and smiled indulgently.

A few minutes later they passed into Canada without incident and two hours after that they hit the Toronto city limits. Both women didn't miss the fact that Chuck's hands now gripped the steering wheel tighter and his face had lost most of the humor he'd shown since awakening that morning. They could practically feel the tension in the air. It swirled around them making them all edgy.

They turned a curve and up ahead could see their destination. Involuntarily, Chuck eased off the gas. The light changed and he braked smoothly to a stop. He stared at the light waiting for it change and praying it wouldn't. A touch on his hand made him turn sharply to the right. Amelia gave him a confident smile and a quick squeeze. He gripped her hand back watching her face. The light changed, he pulled slowly forward and made a right turn into the parking lot of The Coffee Shoppe.

 **The Coffee Shoppe**

 **Toronto, Ontario**

Chuck parked the car out of sight but where they could still see the front door just in case Blitz had already arrived. Amelia and Dusty started to get out but Chuck just sat there staring at the front of the store. It was much as he'd known it all those years ago, though it had been recently renovated. The exterior and, presumably the interior, had been updated.

There were flowers and plants along the front and side of the edifice. A sign in the window advertised free Wi-Fi. In front were several black wrought iron tables and chairs with umbrellas sporting the store's logo of a steaming cup of coffee alongside a flaky pastry. They were all occupied but not by the person they were here to meet. Inside they could see most of the tables were occupied as well. The patrons were sipping cups of high-priced coffee. A few were munching on sandwiches or pastries while reading books, newspapers, magazines or surfing the 'net on their laptops.

"It's too late for second thoughts, Chuck." Amelia said gently.

"I'm not _having_ second thoughts." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel nervously. "It's more like sixth or seventh thoughts."

"Then what is it?"

He paused uncomfortably. It was exceedingly apparent that he didn't want to talk about it. "Most guys who cross her…well, they don't usually take the chance to try again."

Dusty blew a bubble and let it pop; they'd convinced her to take smaller portions of the sticky substance. "Why not?"

"Trust me I _never_ wanted to find out."

"If you've never found out how do you know it's bad?" Amelia asked. She was getting a little frustrated with his lack of answers to some of her requests for details. It was like pulling teeth to get the whole story.

"Well, all I know is it has something to do with fingernails."

"Ow!" Both women exclaimed in unison.

~~O~~

Chuck carried three cups of steaming hot coffee to the table, passed one to each of his companions then scooted his chair closer to Amelia's. They sat there just sipping the hot brew, each lost in their own thoughts. He twisted the cardboard sleeve back and forth restlessly until Amelia grabbed his hand to stop him. Shrugging an apology, he brought the cup up to his lips but stopped when a voice from the past said, "Still take it with cream and sugar, Sneaker?"

He turned his head to the left and saw a pair of plain black patent leather two-inch heels below slim ankles that lead to shapely calves. This, in turn, lead to a slightly flared black skirt that ended just below the knees and swished when she moved. A sheer purple silk chiffon blouse with raglan sleeves and a camisole lining allowed an enticing amount of cleavage show. Above that were green eyes set into a deceptively sweet face surrounded by not-quite-straight blonde hair that was parted on the left and fell to below her shoulders. Except that her eyes were green and she was a bit shorter, _maybe_ five feet without the heels, she looked very much like actress Patricia Arquette in the television show _Medium_. Hooked over her left shoulder was a small black purse with a long narrow strap.

He'd planned on _not_ doing the gentlemanly thing of standing when a female approached to set the tone for their current relationship but his Canadian upbringing was too deeply ingrained and he found himself involuntarily doing just that. He straightened to his full height forcing the much shorter woman to tilt her head back so she could still see his face. "Blitz." He held his breath while she stared at him without blinking then started again when her eyes traveled down to his feet and back up again.

 _Wow! She's still…hot! I remember one time when I was hacking into…what was the name of that company? She came up behind me and…Argh! Stop! And stop lookin' at her boobs! You're supposed to be crazy about Amelia! Get back on track!_

"You always did look good in black." In his memories, she had the voice of an angel. However, hearing it again after all this time, changed that perception. Now he thought of her voice as ordinary…with a sharp edge.

"Thanks." Chuck looked Blitz over. "You haven't changed much."

"That's a lie but I'll take it."

They were both startled when they heard the sound of a chair being scooted across the tile flooring. Chuck almost jumped out of his skin when Amelia pressed herself intimately against his right side. She hooked one hand around his neck and gave it a quick reassuring squeeze. "Hey, Baby. Wanna introduce me to your…" she gave Blitz an almost dismissive glance "…friend?"

He turned to see Amelia smiling up at him and gave her a smile at the same time wondering, _what the_ hell _is she doing? This_ soooo _isn't part of our agreement for public displays nor is that the nickname she agreed to call me._ The spell cast by the arrival of his ex was broken and he remembered why they were there. Trying to inject a note of affection for the woman pressed against his side he said, "Spunky, this is Blitz. Blitz, this is…" he slipped his arm around her waist and hugged her even closer letting his fingers slip under the edge of her top to touch the skin just above her low-rise jeans rubbing his fingers in small circles. _Two can play this game!_ "…Spunky."

Amelia disliked Blitz on sight. There was a light in her eyes when she looked at Chuck that was almost predatory, like she would devour him without a second thought then spit him out again. She got the feeling that it was the woman's normal expression where men were concerned. She'd already vowed to help him put Blitz and his unsavory past behind him but now that promise took on a whole new meaning. She knew instinctively that the bleached blonde would use him for her nefarious plans and cast him aside when she had what she wanted which is probably what happened before. _Well, she is NOT gonna do that if_ I _can help it! I am going to enjoy kicking the crap out of her! Figuratively_ and _literally if I get the chance!_ _And what the_ hell _is he doing with is hand on my stomach! He is soooo gonna pay for that!_ Instead of the growl that wanted to push out of her chest, Amelia smiled sweetly, extended her hand and said, "So you're the infamous Blitz. I must say you're nothing at all like I pictured you from Mountie's description."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Amelia pushed a little away from Chuck and stood up straight towering over the other woman. "You're not as… _tall_ as I thought you'd be."

The look in Blitz's eyes turned cold but her smile never faltered. "Well, we can't all be Amazons now, can we?" They both laughed politely until a pop brought their attention to Dusty who had continued to chew in silence.

"And this is our friend, Dusty." The women watched each other warily as they shook hands, assessing and judging.

 _Doesn't he have_ anymale _friends?_ The dark-haired woman thought as she assessed the woman who'd caused so much trouble for her new friend. She blew another bubble, sucked it in then remarked almost casually. "So, Sneaker used to like older women, huh?"

The small blonde woman snatched her hand back, the smile disappearing as if it'd never been. "Who're you again?"

Dusty shrugged as if it were of no consequence. "A friend of Chuck-a-roni and his Spunky-girl."

To break the tension, Chuck pulled a chair out, and held it for Blitz. Moments later, one of the servers set a cup in front of her. "How ya doin' today, Ms. Krieger?"

"Not bad, Ahdira. How's Andre?"

The girl smiled brightly. "He's doing great, thanks. Spending the weekend with his gram and gramps."

"Your parents are doing well, I take it."

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks for asking. Have a great evening."

As soon as the young woman returned to her post behind the counter, Dusty and Amelia began snickering. The snickering turned into giggles. Chuck would have joined them, but he knew better, and practically bit his tongue in two to keep it from happening.

Blitz glared at both women who were wiping tears from their eyes. " _What_ is so _funny?_ "

The giggling tapered off until it was just the occasional titter. Finally, Amelia said, "Your _name_ is…" she took a deep breath to regain control, and it worked, sort of, "…Blitz _Krieger?_ "

Chuck had kept his eyes averted, but at that he turned to look at Amelia, and his control dissolved. He started laughing too, causing more hilarity. Finally, it all came to an end though everyone except for Blitz still glowed with the humor of the situation.

"You _done_?" She asked with a distinct chill.

Chuck did a quick consensus, and nodded. "Yeah, we're done."

"So, what have you been up to, Sneaker?"

Chuck stiffened inside. _Show time_. "Joined the Air Force."

"You're _kidding_!"

He gave her a salute. "Sergeant Charles O. Campbell, RCAF."

Now it was Blitz's turn to laugh. She laughed until she cried, dabbed at her eyes then took a drink of her coffee. "That's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. Pull the other one, why don't you?"

Chuck couldn't stop the rise in resentment at her disparagement of his chosen profession. His genial smile was gone, his voice cold. "I don't find anything remotely funny in choosing to do service to your country."

He could see identical expressions on the faces of his companions. They would _not_ be kind to his ex after this. Not that they'd been nice up till now. _I hope Dusty doesn't do something to get us thrown in jail. That would be extremely awkward to explain_.

"Sorry, but _you_ are one of the last people I would have thought would join the military. I'd sooner believe _Shades_ had become a cop." She looked him in the eye. "They obviously don't know about your previous occupation."

"No, they don't. But you can talk freely in front of my friends. They know all about my unsavory past."

Amelia felt the need to step in. "Yeah, we don't keep secrets from each other, right, baby?" She'd kept hold of his hand, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. It was a very intimate gesture and, again, not one of the public displays of affection they'd agreed upon. And it was driving him _crazy!_ He put his other hand over hers to stop it.

"How long have you been in?" Blitz tried to temper her astonishment at his career choice, and was partially successful though still somewhat incredulous.

"A little more than a year after graduation."

"Then you're on leave."

He looked down at the table in embarrassment. "No. We were discharged."

"'We?'"

"Yeah… _we_." Amelia touched his cheek.

"Why?"

Amelia took up the story, giving him a love-struck smile which he attempted to return. "He was assigned to my base on an exchange program. We met in the mess hall one night, and started talking. And before we knew it, we were naked on the Colonel's desk."

The blonde woman was taken aback. That was _not_ the answer she'd been expecting. He'd obviously changed quite a bit from the man she'd gone to the prom with their senior year of high school. She cleared her throat. "And you're still together?"

"Mmm. Yeah."

Blitz smirked as she looked Amelia up and down then addressed Chuck, "So, she was more than a quick and dirty then, eh?"

Amelia was already pissed off at the way Blitz had been treating Chuck since she'd arrived so she decided to go all out. "There was nothing _quick_ about it, honey. My Mountie here has the stamina of a mountain climber in winter. In fact, that's the _only_ reason we got caught."

She turned Chuck toward her, and kissed him long and deep. Much longer than the three seconds they'd agreed upon, and much deeper than expected. When she released him, they were both panting. Blitz watched with uncomfortable fascination.

Into the silence that descended, Dusty popped a bubble and sighed, as if it was something she saw them do every day.

Amelia had kept her hands pressed to his cheeks. He pulled them away self-consciously, but kept hold of one hand. "Spunky, _please_ , not in front of the ex. Plenty of time for that later, baby."

A tune burst into the silence, and Blitz reached for her purse. She looked at her cell phone screen. "Excuse me. I have to take this."

As soon as she passed out of hearing range, Amelia asked quietly, "How do you think it's going?"

"Pretty good, I'd say. She seems to have bought our cover story. She'll probably have someone look into it, and it'll be a definite sale once she sees the fake records Landry planted." Chuck told her with more confidence than he felt. He glanced at Dusty, and she had a smirk all over her face. "What?"

"You're _sure_ you two aren't a couple?"

"Why'd you ask?" Amelia wanted to know, her brows knitted in confusion.

"Because she'sgone, and you're still holding hands." She looked pointedly at their hands still clasped together on the table.

"Oh," Chuck exclaimed pulling, his hand away. "Sorry."

Blitz reappeared. "Why don't we get something to eat and talk a little business?" The three undercover operatives stood up and slipped into their jackets. "We can go to Bopper's. There's one just down the street."

"I haven't been there in a while."

"Really? We used to go there all the time," Blitz pointedly reminded Amelia of their prior relationship. "It was your favorite restaurant back in the day."

"Yeah. I used to go to look at the girls." Chuck enfolded Amelia in his arms, gazing into her light brown eyes with affection. "Now I go for the _food._ "

 **TBC**


	5. Chuck and the Porn Star

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

Note: I've changed the name of the previous chapter to "You Don't Know Chuck", which is a play on the title of the trivia game, "You Don't Know Jack".

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 4**

 **Chuck and the Porn Star**

 **Bopper's Bar and Grill**

When the women came out of the bathroom, Chuck was talking to a young woman in the Bopper's uniform of tight red tank top with the restaurant's logo on the front and bright blue boxer's shorts. She couldn't have been more than twenty-one with long brown hair, dark exotic eyes and enormous breasts that didn't look real.

Chuck was leaning on the hostess podium. He said something, she laughed, tossed her long braid over her shoulder, and showed enough big white teeth to make her an honorary member of the Osmond family.

This situation promised to be fun at someone else's expense, so Dusty stood back and waited to see what would happen. Belatedly, Amelia remembered her supposed relationship with Chuck and stepped forward. "Excuse me, he's taken."

"Pardon?"

"You're flirting with my boyfriend… _"_ she looked at the name tag "…Melissa."

"I-But, well…we…he never…what I mean is, wh-, uh…"

His forehead crinkled in thought, Chuck asked, "Your last name wouldn't happen to be McKay?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason. You remind me of someone."

~~O~~

While Amelia read Melissa the riot act, Chuck walked over to stand with Blitz and Dusty. He crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall. His brown eyes watched the spectacle with high amusement. Dusty blew a bubble, let it pop, but said nothing.

"Aren't you gonna do something?" Blitz asked.

"Why? She's more than capable of fighting for what she wants. That's why I call her Spunky."

Amelia staked over to stand with her friends and Blitz, and a moment later the hostess appeared and took them to a table in a private room. Blitz tried to take a seat next to Chuck. Amelia and Dusty intervened, taking the seats on either side of him, as if they were his bodyguards, forcing her to sit elsewhere. They'd already ordered when a man in his late early forties approached.

Chuck looked at him thinking he looked familiar as he bent down and gave Blitz a quick kiss then pulled the chair out next to her and sat down. He had the dark brown hair and olive skin that signified an Italian background. He was a little on the chubby side and had a small scar on his left cheek shaped like a crescent moon. It was that scar that jogged his memory.

" _Crockett?_ I heard you were in _prison._ "

"Sneaker, you _dog!_ I heard _you_ were _dead._ " It was obviously a familiar greeting for the two men. They shook hands, there was some confusion when their server arrived with the drinks and appetizers. She took Crockett's order then introductions were made.

"Call me Boone," Crockett said as he gave Dusty and Amelia smiles that said he liked what he saw. Amelia gave him a haughty look and took hold of Chuck's hand, while Dusty just chewed her gum and looked back without expression or interest. He shrugged, and reached for his glass of iced tea.

"Heard from Zack?" Boone asked.

Blitz took out her phone, checking email and texts. "Not yet, but he's not due until noon."

"Don't worry. He always calls if he's going to be late."

Their food arrived, she slid the phone back into her purse, and turned her attention to her companions. "Time to get down to business. Here's what we need from you, Sneaker…"

 **The Hotel Temporadas**

"Ah, Ms. Krieger, welcome! Welcome!" A middle-aged man in a suit and tie rushed forward as the group entered the lobby of the small hotel. He kissed the back of Blitz's hand, smiling obsequiously. He was dark-skinned, and perfectly groomed. His only accessories were a watch, a gold wedding band and a gold tie pin.

"Thank you, Raul. These are the people I was telling you about."

"Wonderful! Please, this way." He gestured for them to precede him then went around to the other side of the front desk. "Now for Mr. and Mrs. Angelo we have 1003, the honeymoon suite, and for their friend, room 402. Now if you will please sign here…"

"No." Everyone turned at the sharp exclamation from Dusty.

"Excuse me?" Raul gapped at the Marine, confused.

Dusty pushed her way to the desk. "I said _no._ I stay on the same floor as them, or we're goin' somewhere else."

Raul shifted his eyes to Blitz for confirmation then back to Dusty. That is not a problem. Room 1001." He handed key cards across the desk while Chuck reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his wallet. "That is not necessary, Mr. Angelo. Everything has been taken care of by Ms. Krieger."

Chuck didn't argue as Amelia picked up the key cards and they headed for the elevator followed by a young man pushing a cart with their bags on it.

"Angelo?" Chuck asked Blitz quietly.

Her eyes telegraphed her amusement. "Told him your names were Michael and Megan Angelo, and you were newlyweds. Just for a laugh, you understand." Boone and Blitz bid them good-night at the elevator. The group parted company with plans to meet the next day.

 **Blitz's Basement Apartment**

 **Late the Next Morning**

There was a knock on the door of the basement apartment, but Chuck and Amelia barely heard it. They were at a critical stage in their work and couldn't allow themselves to be distracted. He leaned over and spoke quietly to her in that verbal code reserved for computer experts. She nodded back and opened a new window on her screen. A few minutes later they both pushed away from the table, and got up to stretch.

Dusty was in the kitchen trying to reach a box of cookies on the top shelf, coming up a little short. Chuck walked up behind her, and pulled it down accidentally bumping into her.

As had happened on their first meeting he ended up face down on the floor. However, instead of his head going into a pumpkin shell, and having a pair of garden shears pressed to his throat, she landed on his back getting him in a sleeper hold before he could react.

His vision started to darken then there were shouts of "Dusty!" and "Sorry!" and the weight disappeared. His vision cleared, he coughed a few times, and rolled onto his back.

Amelia helped him up. "You okay?"

He coughed again, stretched his neck, nodding that there seemed to be no real damage except to his pride. "I think she's starting to like me. She didn't try to stab me this time."

"I _said_ I was sorry. You gotta stop sneakin' up on me."

Still rubbing his back with one hand where a knee had pressed into his kidney, he didn't respond. Chuck opened the refrigerator, pulled out three bottles of cola, passed one to Amelia and the other to Dusty. They popped the tops, touched the bottles together, and drank. It was a ritual they'd performed each day since they began the operation to bring down Blitz and her team.

A commotion drew them into the front room where they saw Blitz hugging the stuffings out of a young man with medium brown hair. He was enduring her attention with the sort of patience that is only reserved for someone you love. Blitz and the boy were talking a mile a minute in French. Chuck spoke and understood a little, but they were talking too fast for him to keep up. The one word that did get through was " _maman_." This boy was Blitz's son.

"…and this is Sneaker." The young man turned toward him with a smile, his hand extended.

"Call me Chuck." He said automatically. When Zack turned fully toward him he could see the front of his sweatshirt. Except that it was brand new it was identical to the one he still had back in his quarters on Atlantis. He'd gotten it his first year at Ryerson the year he'd turned 17. He did a quick calculation, estimated Zack's age and came up with…holy _shit!_

"Chuck. Mom's told me so much about you." Though he'd spoken French like a native, his English was unaccented, again like a native.

"I wish I could say the same." Chuck kept his voice and facial expression pleasantly curious despite the potential for disaster. "You never told me you had…"

"…a son? I didn't think you'd be interested." She looked him in the eye without flinching, resentment in every line of her body. "You left me, and never looked back, not once. How could I know you still cared enough to want to know what my life was like after you'd gone?"

He had no response, because it was true. Once he'd gotten up the nerve to leave, he'd wanted no more to do with any part of his past life. He moved back to Calgary, and never again contacted his former high school sweetheart or any of their little gang of bike thieves. Never wanted to. But to think she had a child, it boggled the mind.

Zack stepped over to Boone. "Danny, how's it goin'? Shaved the 'stash, I see."

"Yeah, got tired of trimming it all the time." He gave the boy a pretend punch in the stomach.

Chuck's forehead creased. "Did he just call you Danny?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Your name is _Daniel Boone_ Hayes?" Chuck started snickering as did Amelia.

Shaking his head and grinning, Chuck said, "Maybe we should tell them _your_ real name, Blitz."

"No!"

He ignored her exclamation then pointed at the blonde woman and stage whispered to Amelia and Dusty, "Brianna Lacé Krieger."

Amelia and Dusty again dissolved into laughter. Because it was still close to the surface it didn't take much.

Through her laughter, Dusty said, "Sounds like a porn star."

Red-faced and fuming, Blitz turned her back, went into the bedroom, and slammed the door. A picture fell, shattering the glass.

A beep from behind them brought Chuck's attention back to the job. He turned to Amelia. "As much fun as it's been playing the name game, if you'll excuse us."

Soon they were once again immersed in a concentration so great that they didn't notice the passage of time.

~~O~~

It was nearly dark when a knock on the front door penetrated the veil of absorption that had settled around Chuck and Amelia. He heard Blitz go to the door, and have an intense whispered conversation then they heard a strange male voice say the name Dusty. Amelia must've heard it too because turned her head toward the door. Together, they left the table, and went to the front room.

Two police officers were standing in the hall. The older male thanked Blitz, tipped his hat, and the door closed.

"What's going on?" Chuck demanded.

Blitz gestured at Dusty who stood there looking almost, but not quite contrite. "She beat up a bunch of teenage boys just as those officers happened to drive by. They were going to arrest her, but the guys refused to press charges because, apparently, they didn't want there to be a record of them being beaten up by a _girl._ Their words, not mine."

Chuck and Amelia crossed their arms, and turned toward the gum-chewing woman, silently asking for an explanation. "I got bored so, I went for a walk. When I got to the park, they started following me, and sayin' things." "Went for a walk was their code for "checked the perimeter."

"What sorts of _things_?" Amelia demanded. Chuck wanted to know too. He was still upset at being attacked for a second time.

She deepened her voice and even managed a passable imitation of a Canadian accent. "'Hey, Baby. Wish I had a swing like that in _my_ backyard.'"

They all waited but she didn't continue so Boone finally asked, "That's _it?_ "

She blew a bubble then shrugged and nodded. "After that was a lot of screaming, from them, not me, and running, 'cause I was chasing them. Then the cops came, and that's when it got bad."

Chuck stared, making her squirm. When she'd suffered long enough, he crooked a finger. Reluctantly, she went to stand in front of him. "From now on, you do _not_ go out alone. Is that clear?" She mumbled something he couldn't hear. "Excuse me?"

" _Fine_. I won't go out alone. Geez. It's not like I _killed_ anyone." She flopped onto the sofa, grabbed the remote and tuned the television to a sports channel. "Crap! Don't you guys get _real_ football here?"

Zack sat down at the opposite end out of arm's reach. He was a fast learner. "Mom keeps my video console in the closet while I'm at university. I've got Super Smash Brothers Cart, Anubis II, Biker Mice from Mars, a few more."

"Cool! Smash Brothers Cart." She said out loud, changing it to a mumble, "The others are too much like my day job."

"Huh?" Zack's voice was muffled by the clothing hanging in the closet.

"Nothin'. Hurry up! I'm gettin' bored, and gettin' bored's what gets me into trouble."

~~O~~

Blitz and Boone drew Chuck into the kitchen, and Amelia followed. "What the _hell_ is going on, Chuck? The _cops_ were here! Who the hell _is_ she anyway?"

Chuck smiled, gesturing offhandedly. "She's sort of a…" he scratched his chin, trying to figure out the best way to describe the Marine. "I guess you could call her a pet wolf. She will fight to the death _for_ you, or fight _you_ to the death. If the worst-case scenario happens, there's no one I'd rather have fighting at my side, or in front of me." He winked when he caught Dusty's eye from where she was helping Zack hook up the video system. She gave him a brilliant smile.

"Just be glad she's on _our_ side," Amelia added her voice glancing up at Chuck with a smirk. "Oh, and watch out for random attacks."

~~O~~

Around midnight there was another knock at the door, and Chuck immediately looked around for Dusty. With relief, he located her on the sofa beating Zack at some video game and having a grand time. They kept getting into friendly shoving matches and laughing. She'd even given him a piece of gum so they could chew in unison.

The remains of pizza, hot wings, and bowls of ice cream were on the coffee table. What bothered Chuck most about the mess was that no one had offered he and Amelia anything to eat while they were working.

Another thing that got on his nerves was the fact that when his past came back to haunt him, more ghosts kept showing up. He and Amelia shut down their laptops for the night, and went into the front room to greet the newest ghost, er, guest.

The man talking to Blitz and Boone was five-seven, and lean, with short jet black hair, dressed for clubbing. The fact that it was well after sunset, and he wore black framed Oakley sunglasses, told Chuck it could only be one person. "Shades?!"

The man spun around at the sound of a voice from the past. "Sneaker? _Cabron_ , is that _you?_ You cut your hair!"

Chuck's hand went to the back of his neck. "Long time ago. Still wearing the Oakleys, I see."

The men hugged and slapped each other on the back. The shorter man pulled back to flick the frame of his sunglasses. "Polarized Oakley's Square Wire. Still on my first pair," he boasted.

Chuck introduced Amelia. He put an arm around her shoulders to indicate their supposed relationship. "This is Spunky. Spunky, Shades."

Dusty and Zack had shut off their game and were picking up the mess from their dinner. Dusty snorted a laugh. "Shades, Blitz, Crockett? Geez, Chuck-meister! Don't any of your friends use _real_ names?"

He was spared from responding when Shades turned sharply in Dusty's direction at the sound of her voice, taking a step in her direction, and pulling the glasses off to reveal a pair of piercing eyes so dark they looked black. Hanging the glasses off the front of his shirt, he gave her a _very_ bold once-over.

Shades took Dusty's right hand in both of his, stopping just outside her personal space. Because he was a couple of inches shorter than she, he tilted his head back to keep eye contact. "I know most of Blitz's and Boone's friends so you must be with Sneaker. If we'd met, I would remember."

She blew a bubble and looked confused for a moment, but seeing that no one was laughing at him, she sucked the bubble back in and replied. "Yeah, that's right. And you are…?"

" _Encantado, mi querida_." He had a slight accent, indicating he was fluent in both Spanish and English.

Dusty raised an eyebrow in confusion so Blitz translated, "He said he's pleased to meet you, Dusty."

"Your name is _Dusty?_ _Que unica!_ " He bowed over her hand, smart enough not to try to kiss it. " _Mi nombre es_ Vincente Julio Enrique Raymundo Salazar, and I am at your service. You can call me anytime, but for now, please call me Vince."

"Careful there, Shades. She hits _and_ bites," Blitz warned him. Instead of scaring him away as she'd intended, he was intrigued.

He kept his eyes firmly on Dusty's face. This alone scored him major points with the dark-haired woman especially after her encounter with the smart-mouthed teens from the park. "Mmm. I love a woman who isn't afraid to do as she pleases. _Perfecto!_ "

She straightened to her full height, and gave him the same bold once over he'd given her. A small smile appeared, saying she too liked what she saw.

Chuck rolled his eyes, and yawned dramatically. "If no one minds, we're going back to the hotel." He indicated Amelia and himself. She'd remained mostly quiet though she did come up with a smile at the exchange between Dusty and the newcomer. "You comin', Dusty?"

Shades finally released her hand. "Until next time, _Polvita._ "

Dusty furrowed her brow again. " _Polvita_?"

Again, Blitz translated. "It's Spanish for dusty, sort of."

She blew a bubble, let it pop, and nodded. "'Till next time." She scooped her phone from the table, and shoved into her back pants pocket.

Vince handed his phone to her. "Put your number in there."

Dusty tilted her head to the side as she looked at the phone he'd placed in her hand, watching him with an unblinking stare. "And if I don't?"

Vince didn't hesitate. "Then I won't be able to call you to go paintballing."

Trying her best not to give anything away, Dusty skillfully used her thumb to put her number in. "Don't call after ten, though. Beauty sleep and all."

With a slick move, Vince retrieved his phone. "As if you need it, _mi_ _Polvita_."

She turned to Blitz's son with a grin and a fist bump. "'Night, Zack-ster. It's been real."

"Ditto, Dust-a-rooni!" She waved to the kid and flashed one last smile at Shades before closing the door.

As the three friends exited the building, Chuck and Amelia snickering.

"Shut up!" was Dusty's response

The three friends were quiet for the rest of the walk to the SUV though the essence of humor still lingered. They put their seatbelts on, the engine started then Chuck made a left out of the driveway and braked smoothly to a stop at the light. There was a sharp pop just before Dusty said, "Your son's cute, Chuckster."

~~O~~

Blitz, waited ten minutes after the door had closed then went out into the hall. She pulled out a disposable cell phone and hit the speed dial. "It's me… I had to call in an outside contractor… You'll have it in plenty of time. Have I ever let you down?" She was already in her pajamas, plain blue flannel bottoms with a blue and white top and slippers, pacing as she talked. "I know, but this one was a little more complicated than we first thought… Tomorrow at the latest... This person owes me a favor… I'll message you when to pick it up… good-" She glared at the disconnected phone.

Boone, who had been listening from the doorway, came over to put his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest the phone still clutched in her right hand. They didn't worry about being overheard as theirs was the only apartment in the basement. It was larger than the others in the building, but was still difficult to rent because few people wanted to live underground. It suited their purposes perfectly.

He kissed her temple. "It'll be alright, Bri. Your ex will come through. We'll let him and his girlfriend take the fall while we slip off to the Caymans to live out the rest of our days. The company he's hacking has major government contracts, and after the way he left the service, the powers that be won't have any problem believing he masterminded the whole thing. Especially once they know about his former occupation, which I _assume_ you're gonna make sure they find out about."

"Of course. And the Caymans sound _wonderful_." She yawned and stepped out of his arms. "I'm too tired right now to fantasize about getting out of this frozen hell, and putting my ex in prison. I worry about the effect it will have on Zack."

Blitz growled in frustration. "I almost had a heart attack when the cops came to the door today. That _woman!_ All she does is sit there chewing gum, watching television, eating, and playing games with Zack when she isn't watching me or you. Sneaker treats her like a-a _pet_." She shook her head. "And the way she and Shades were looking at each other, it's a wonder the apartment didn't go up in flames." She glared at Boone when he laughed, and sat on the stairs that lead to the ground floor. "I feel kind of bad that we're doing this to Chuck though."

"Why? He ran out on you without a word. He also wasn't the only one to take off."

She sighed heavily and got to her feet. "What do you think happened to…?"

"Don't know. Don't care." Boone pushed off from where he'd been leaning against the wall next to the stairs. He looked down at his feet then back up to her face. "He thinks Zack is his son."

"I saw it on his face." She took his offered hand, and walked back to the apartment. "He and I need to talk before this is over, but that girlfriend of his is always around. It's like he can't even _pee_ without her."

"It was the same for the two of you back in the day, remember? He followed you around like a love-sick puppy."

"Telling him I loved him was the only way he would help me pay for university after they took away my scholarship. He took off just after I found out I was pregnant."

"You think he knew and that's why he left?"

She shook her head. "He wouldn't have left, if he had."

Boone pulled her to a stop at the door then into his arms again. "Well, his loss is my gain once you divorced what's-his-name, and he went back to France."

"His _name_ is _Roman_."

"I know, but I don't want to talk about him." He leaned down to kiss her as the door suddenly opened, and Zack stuck his head out.

"Mom, I'm goin' to bed. And don't worry about me. You two go to the Caymans. Have fun. I can take care of myself." At their shocked expressions, he added, "I wasn't _listening_. You've been talking about the Caymans since I was a kid. Oh, and lock up when you and Danny are done makin' out."

Boone laughed as he pushed Zack back inside, and closed the door.

 **The Hotel Temporadas**

 **Room 1003**

Chuck tossed his jacket on a chair, and pulled off his boots while Amelia did the same, then flopped down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. Leaning forward he put his elbows on his knees, and his hands over his face. His head jerked up when the cushions shifted next to him, and a foot rubbed his thigh. "Wanna talk?"

"Not really."

"Yes, you do." Amelia gave him a small smile.

"You know me too well." He sat back and she turned toward him sitting cross-legged. "Zack is about seventeen, and attending Ryerson. It's been just under eighteen years since Blitz and I have seen each other. Add nine months to seventeen years, and you get…"

"Happy Father's Day?"

He turned toward Amelia, left leg resting on the sofa and the same arm along the back.

"I'm sorry, Chuck. All I have are the usual platitudes." Amelia lay back with her head on the pillow at the end of the sofa rubbing her sock-covered feet on his calf. He gave one foot a squeeze. She gestured for him to keep going, so he pulled off her sock, and dug his thumbs into the flesh just forward of the heel, pressing in as he moved up to the base of the toes over and over.

"So, let's hear them."

She bit back a moan at the sensation. "If you'd known you would have been there for him, and he wouldn't have grown up thinking another man was his father. You're sorry you missed seeing him grow up. Start by being friends, and see where it goes from there."

"If she'd told me she was…"

"You never would have left." She knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn't be in the situation they now found themselves in if he hadn't joined the service, and he wouldn't have joined if he'd stayed with Blitz. He started massaging her toes next, and that almost catapulted her off the sofa it felt so good.

He nodded. "Though that's no guarantee that she and I would have _stayed_ together. From what she did and didn't say, she must have married Roman shortly after I left which tells she was already seeing him."

She exchanged her right foot for the left. He yanked that sock off, and went back to massaging. "Just forget about it for now. She'll bring it up eventually, and if _she_ doesn't _you_ need to." His dark brown eyes came up to meet her hers. "And when you do, just say what's in your heart." He nodded acceptance of her advice then laughed when she said, "Mmm. You're good at this."

"You have my mom and sisters to thank. Mom was a stay-at-home, on her feet all the time, yelling at me to get my act together. Dad was always too tired to do it. My sisters had jobs at retail before going to university, and getting married. They moaned and complained so much, I rubbed their feet just to get some peace and quiet."

"What are their names?" Amelia cocked her head to one side, and smiled gently. She knew he was a sucker for this type of look.

"Joan and Cecilia. We have an older brother, Robert Junior. Yours?"

She laughed. "I have _five_ sisters, Beth, Cassie, Delia, Ellie, and Francesca, all younger." Pulling her foot from his grasp, she turned to sit, facing away from him, bringing her long hair over one shoulder out of the way. "How are you at shoulders and backs?"

Feeling a little better about the situation, Chuck wiggled his fingers, and stretched his arms. "Let's find out."

 **TBC**


	6. Keeping Up with the Chuck

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Keeping Up with the Chuck**

 **Later that Same Night**

Amelia eased out of her side of the bed, and tiptoed around to Chuck's side to check that he was asleep. He gave a small grunt and rolled over scrunching one of the extra pillows in his arms. True to his word he had not once strayed over the invisible line drawn between them on the bed.

She opened the bedroom door, closed it with a barely audible click then hurried over to pull out one of their back-up laptops. She went to the small wet bar to get a cold drink while it booted up then sat down and got to work.

She was good. Maybe not as good as Chuck, but she was no slouch in the hacking department. It only took her twenty minutes to get what she wanted, sort of. She accessed the county records site, clicked on "Birth Records", gave a name, gender and date range, and was rewarded with several hits. Scrolling down, she found the one she was looking for.

After reading over the birth certificate for one Zackary John Parrish, she was no wiser than when she'd started because the father's name had been left blank. With an annoyed sigh, she shut the laptop, and went back to bed.

 **Blitz's Apartment**

 **Lunchtime the Next Day**

Since the day Chuck and his female entourage arrived at the apartment, Blitz and Boone had found ways to occupy themselves while Chuck and Amelia worked on getting the information the client wanted. They were taking too long, in her estimation, but she held off making a fuss in case Chuck decided to turn the tables on her and the operation.

Boone was not as patient, and had taken to pacing back and forth behind them. Now he stopped, and leaned over Chuck's shoulder watching the lines of code flash across the screen too fast for the human eye to comprehend.

~~O~~

When Chuck could no longer tolerate having the man breathing down his neck, he spoke softly over his shoulder, "You know, Boone, we're trying to pull this info out through a really, really small back door." He pinched less than a centimeter of air. "We're almost done, but if we can't concentrate then this will end up being more like a botched colonoscopy than a surgical strike."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, stop hovering while we're working." Chuck edited what he was going to say next. "Go get us some Chinese for lunch, and take Dusty with you. She hasn't been walked yet today. Orange chicken with steamed rice for me. Spunky?"

" **Broccoli Chicken** with steamed rice, please."

Chuck looked up when Dusty tapped him on the shoulder. He nodded imperceptibly at Boone. She blew a bubble in response. "I'll get us a couplea six-packs, too."

"Great." He barely heard the front door close as he went back to work.

Amelia gave Dusty a smile, made a phone with her thumb and pinky and mouthed "Call Shades." Dusty rolled her eyes, and a minute later she and Boone were gone allowing Chuck and Amelia to breathe a little easier.

~~O~~

Chuck finished his Chinese food, tossed the containers in the trash and went back to his laptop. The others were watching a movie, and a few minutes later, Amelia leaned over his shoulder as if they were having an intimate conversation about anything other than what they were really talking about.

"How's it going?" She whispered in his ear.

He sighed. "Actually, we're nearly done. I'm just making it look good."

He gave her a tired smile. "I'm glad this is almost over. We need to get a message to Landry that we're about to make the hand-off, and can't risk being overheard. Let's stage a fight, you stalk off in a huff, ostensibly to go for a long drive, and give him a call. When you come back, bring some Rocky Road ice cream to let me know you got through."

"Why fake a fight?"

"They're getting suspicious about our relationship. We need to spice it up a little, to convince them we're a couple." He took her hand from his shoulder and kissed the palm. "Faking a fight and make-up sex should do it. I've heard it's the best." He indicated Blitz and Boone with their eyes glued to the television. "We give them the information, they go to prison, we get showered with praise by Carter, Sheppard, Landry, _and_ the IOA, and life goes back to what passes for normal."

Amelia was stunned silent for a few heartbeats. " _You've_ never had make-up sex?"

"No. Never had a reason to." He fought a shrug. It wouldn't look natural, and he was already trying to resist laughing at their strange conversation. "Every time I've had a fight with a female it either ended with her sending me to my room, giving me noogies, stealing one of my toys as revenge, a break-up, or with her giving me orders to clean latrines, rearrange files, or transferring me to a post in a place where indoor plumbing is a luxury."

Her arms came around him. "And here I thought you were this laid-back, genial and almost loveable semi-genius."

" _Almost_ loveable?" Chuck raised an eyebrow.

She gave a little laugh, rested her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. "What about Zack? What if he really is…?"

"I'll have to cross that bridge when I get to it."

"We'll cross that bridge together. I'm your friend, and won't let you go through it alone." He patted her arm, giving it a squeeze. "Laugh at something I said." He did as instructed, gave her a quick kiss then took a swig of water, capped it, and got back to work.

There was a knock at the door, and Shades entered without waiting for an invitation. "What's shakin', dudes and dudettes _?_ " He pulled his glasses off, and gave Dusty a grin. "Ready, _Polvita?_ "

Her grin matched his. "You betcha. The Zack-ster's out with his buds, and Canadian football is weird. Let's blow this mausoleum." She climbed to her feet and went to dispose of her food containers calling out from the kitchen, "Whatcha drivin', Vince?"

"Just my city car." He told her jiggling a set of keys in one hand just before tossing them to her. "You drive and I'll navigate."

She caught them easily. "Cool! Later, people."

Vince held the door for her then gave the group a quick wave. "I have paintball rifles and ammo in the car. Halo 2 battle rifles, blue for me and red for you, as well as armored vests, goggles, the works." The door closed, and it was quiet again.

~~O~~

Shades led Dusty to a nearly-new black Mustang parked next to the SUV she, Chuck and Amelia drove had come in. She ran a hand reverently over the front fender then stood back to admire its lines. "Nice ride."

He waved away her praise. "Just something to get me around town, and maybe catch the eyes of certain ladies." He winked.

"And ya look good doing it."

Shades nodded as he got in the passenger seat while she put on her seatbelt, slipped on a pair of sunglasses she found in the cubbyhole, and started the car. The dual exhaust rumbled making it vibrate under them.

She carefully backed out of the parking lot, and grinned as she shifted into first. "Got a hat, Shades?"

"Might have one in the trunk _._ Why?"

"Hold on to it." Her left foot let the clutch out as her right came down on the gas, the tires burning rubber the length of the driveway. A quick right turn, and they were out of sight, and gaining speed.

~~O~~

In the few days Zack had known his mom's ex-boyfriend, he noticed that Chuck was incredibly intelligent, though he didn't want everyone to know. He was polite in the extreme, and seemed to prefer staying in the background. At no time had he heard the man raise his voice in anything, but excitement. Not when Dusty had attacked him-for the second time, apparently. And not when she had been brought back by the police after the incident at the park.

He thought idly that Chuck would make a good big brother. He would be firm but fair, and more than a little fun. That's why he was surprised to hear Chuck and Amelia arguing like dogs over a bone. He could hear them as he was coming down the stairs. Not what they were saying, but there was no doubt that Chuck had made Amelia angry. Their words became clear when he opened the front door.

"…and you're always staring at her ass!"

"I _said_ I was sorry, didn't I? We haven't seen each other in years, and a guy gets curious." Chuck and Amelia were standing in the kitchen practically in each other's faces.

Zack tossed his backpack on the end of the sofa, a little disappointed that Dusty wasn't there. He'd been looking forward to playing video games with her. Despite her age, she didn't act it. It was kinda cool to have an adult friend who wasn't so serious all the time.

Amelia poked Chuck in the chest. "How do I know you haven't been indulging your _curiosity_?" On the last word, she used her entire body to made a sarcasm gesture.

"Ha! Make _one_ little mistake, and it stays in your memory forever." Chuck lifted his arms

"Once a cheater, always a cheater."

Chuck growled in his throat, and backed up a step. "I don't know how I can say this any clearer. I _didn't_ sleep with her."

The young man tapped his mother on the shoulder. "What's _that_ all about?"

"I'm not sure. There's a bigger problem than the fact that she thinks he cheater on her." She winced as a pan came crashing to the floor. "We've known each other since we were in high school. I've _never_ seen him like this. He's also not the cheating type. Chuck is a one woman-at-a-time man."

Boone opened his mouth, but was saved from speaking when Amelia came into the front room pulling her jacket on with quick angry movements. She pushed past Blitz and Zach standing in front of the door, jerked it open, and slammed it behind her. Her footsteps could be heard pounding on the stairs. The SUV's engine roared to life, and as Dusty had earlier, Amelia burned rubber out of the parking lot.

Chuck saw them watching, and returned to his work, jerking the chair out, and falling into it.

~~O~~

Hours later Chuck pushed away from the table rubbing eyes that felt like they were full of sand. He yawned, and stretched, and almost jumped when a hand touched him on the shoulder. A bowl of Italian Wedding Soup was put in front of him. Blitz stood next to him a spoon and, a sympathetic smile. Looking past her, he could see they were alone. "Thanks."

"If you'd like to talk…"

He shook his head, scooped up a generous amount of pearl pasta, meatballs, and spinach, and ate it down. "Mmm. I haven't had this in _years._ "

She was curious, but she didn't ask why. "You and Amelia seem like a nice couple. I'm sorry you're fighting."

One shoulder lifted and dropped. His eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"Me, too. It's stress. We'll get over it." He continued to eat while she just watched him. "Something else I can do for you, Bri?"

She looked at him sharply. He hadn't used her given name since their reunion. "We need to talk."

"What about?" Chuck didn't stop eating the soup. You'd think the man was starved.

"You know what about."

He put the bowl on the table. "I was wondering when you'd get around to it."

"I've put this off for almost eighteen years. It's time to come clean." She took him by the hand. "When you left…" A loud knock at the door interrupted Blitz. She swore under her breath, reluctantly going to the door. Amelia was there holding a paper bag with the name of a popular ice cream store, and wearing a tentative smile. Blitz gestured her in, and she went to stand next to Chuck's chair.

"Sorry I yelled at you, baby." One hand touched his cheek.

He kissed her fingers. "I'm sorry, too."

"I brought your favorite ice cream as an apology, Rocky Road." He smiled, wrapped both arms around her waist, and pulled her onto his lap. She leaned down to kiss him, and Blitz quickly took the bag from her hand before she could drop it. He slid one hand behind her to rub her back. They kissed for so long that Blitz had to keep herself from fidgeting.

Boone and Zack came in the front door carrying bags of groceries, and breaking the spell. The couple pulled apart, and stood. Chuck put on his jacket as they headed for the still open door.

"Where're you going?" Blitz called out.

Chuck turned back as if he'd completely forgotten his purpose for being there. "It's all done. Here you go." He tossed a thumb drive to Blitz, and took Amelia's hand again. The door closed softly behind them leaving the others speechless.

~~O~~

Blitz turned to Boone, giving him a brilliant smile as she reached for the burner phone, hitting speed dial.

"…Yes! That's right… At the dead drop… Four hours." She grinned happily at Boone. "A _bonus?_ That's extremely generous… If you insist… Yes, of course… That's kind of you, but I'm retiring… I might be persuaded to take on a job now and then, just to keep my skills sharp… Thank you… good-bye." As she talked she pulled her jacket from the coat rack, and handed it to Boone. He helped her into it then handed her the car keys.

"How long will you be gone?"

"A couple of hours. The drop is across town. Want to go out to celebrate, or should I bring something back?"

Boone went to the door with her. "I'll talk it over with Zack and give you a call. Be careful!"

"I will." She gave him a quick kiss then shouted to her son in the kitchen putting away the groceries, "Back soon, Zack. Stay out of trouble! And don't put the bread in the freezer. I hate it when you do that." The door slammed before he could answer. A few minutes later tires squealed out of the parking lot for the third time that day.

 **The Hotel Temporadas**

Chuck and Amelia were in the hotel's bar, and on their second celebratory bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon when they decided to take it to their room, and have dinner sent up instead of waiting for Dusty, who was already two hours late. Chuck was tired, and wanted to get into his pajamas to watch a movie so they ordered a meal of turkey legs, Shepherd's Pie, and Greek salad, with cherry pie for dessert.

Amelia carried the bottle and drank from a glass while Chuck carried his glass and their jackets. They were too inebriated to drive so it was a good thing they had no reason to go out. The fact that the valet wouldn't give them their keys when they tried to leave may have helped with the decision.

Chuck was telling her a story about attending a mansion party at the tender age of seventeen, just a month before leaving Calgary to attend Ryerson.

He and his friends being stopped by the police while walking home. They'd left their vehicle somewhere they couldn't remember, but were too drunk to drive so they didn't really care. At least not at the moment. They got a ride home to be turned over to their parents because the cops had given them all breathalyzer tests and determined that they should all be comatose.

"That's hilarious, Chucky!" Amelia was laughing so hard she could barely walk.

Chuck was grinning like a fool as he stopped to look closely at the room door in front of him. "Ya know what's even funnier, 'melia?"

She grabbed his arm to keep herself steady. "What, Wood-Chuck?"

"Hehehe! We're on the wrong flippin' floor!"

Amelia snorted, making her laugh all the harder. "Well, I guess we better go b'fore we get 'rrested for trespassin'!" They went to the elevator, hit the button for the tenth floor, got in, and out again when the door opened.

As they turned the corner Chuck saw two men in the hall in front of room 1003. They were husky, muscular, and dressed all in black. Everywhere you go, especially in the bigger cities, just beneath the surface of civilization lay an almost primitive unsavory element, and these two had "sleaze" written all over them. At their approach the men turned, the bigger of the two shouting, "There he is!"

When the men headed for them Amelia and Chuck exchanged a glance, tossed back the rest of the wine in their glasses, and threw them. The glasses shattered against the walls, totally missing their targets.

The two Atlanteans had fought worse in their time on Atlantis, and were not intimidated in the least. They met their attackers head on.

Amelia flipped the bottle over to grasp it by the neck, swinging it at the head of the shorter man, leaving a trail of wine across the carpet. The man ducked leaving her facing away from him. Though she couldn't see it, she knew he was grinning in triumph. Prematurely, as it happened, because the hand holding the bottle reversed direction, and hit him on the side of the head, stunning him momentarily. Amelia dropped the bottle, and settled into a fighting stance. Now the man was being a little more cautious. He circled to the left, feinting and testing her reactions.

As she moved to keep him in front of her, Amelia could see Chuck fending off his attacker by grabbing the man's jacket, pulling it over his head, and getting him in a head lock. He was taller than his attacker so had a bit of a disadvantage, but he had the element of surprise, which he used to great effect.

Instead of turning the head lock into a sleeper hold or giving the man noogies, he just spun him around and around, back and forth, then in circles again like a bully on a playground. He spun the man one last time, and flung him at the wall at the same time Amelia kicked her guy in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, tripped on the wine bottle, slammed into the wall, and fell, landing next to his partner.

They both shook off their disorientation and climbed to their feet. Amelia and Chuck, by silent agreement, decided that a strategic retreat was in order. They turned, and ran.

Just as they reached the elevator it pinged open and a tall gangly young man in a white shirt with a black bow tie exited pushing a food cart. "Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Angelo, I was just bringing this to…"

"We'll take it from here, thank you." Chuck pushed him back into the elevator, and pressed the button for the ground floor. The door closed on the protesting hotel employee, leaving Chuck and Amelia with only a rolling cart for protection.

Amelia lifted the lids from two of the plates, and used them as shields to defend herself against the punches of her original attacker. Finally, she tired of the impasse, and clocked the man on the head with both as if they were cymbals making a loud clatter. As he fell from the cartoonish attack he knocked the covers from her hands.

Chuck defended himself by flinging anything he could get his hands on at the other man, who stood there with his arms up protecting his head and face as he inched forward. Chuck grabbed napkins and wrapped them around the ends of the hot turkey legs, using them as short Bantos rods, taking a bite from one while swinging the other. Greasy meat and juice flew through the air. Chuck felt a wet smack as a piece landed on his cheek.

He managed to connect with the face of the man trying to grab him. The blow was hard enough to knock the man's head up and to the side amidst cooked turkey debris. He grunted, and fell back a couple of steps as Chuck jumped over the cart and stomped on his foot. When his opponent's mouth opened, he shoved one of the turkey legs into the orifice, and punched him in the gut, forcing his teeth to clamp down on the hard bone.

While the man worked to keep from gagging, Chuck turned to help Amelia, but she had already dispatched her own opponent. She reached back for something to throw, and Chuck stuck a plate of Shepherd's Pie in her hand. Giving it a look of longing she smacked it over the man's head. He screamed when the hot food hit, and slid down the sides of his face. She laughed and said, "Forty million sperm and _you_ were the _fastest?_ "

Chuck and Amelia looked at each other, and smiled their congratulations. They walked away, stopping when they heard one of the men get up amidst pained groans. Chuck saw him reach around to the back of his pants, and knew what was coming. "Amelia, get down!"

The USAF Sergeant took cover behind the food cart as Chuck reacted. He picked up one of the hot cherry pie slices, bounding the hot food from hand to hand. "Ow-ow-ow!"

The man pulled out the gun, making a face at seeing Chuck take a bite of pie then lob it at him.

It was too strange, and the man's reactions too slow. His gun hand came up defensively, firing a single silenced shot into the wall near the ice machine. The pie exploded in a shower of heated cherries that rained over the man's face, and exposed skin like a sweet fragmentation grenade. He screamed as the heat scalded him, falling to the floor in pain.

Amelia peeked over the cart, and stood. "What'd you do that for? I wanted a bite!"

Chuck shoved the remaining piece of pie at her while encouraging her to move. "Saved you a slice!"

Amelia laughed, and took a bite as they ran towards the stairwell. She wolfed it down, and flung the plate toward their attackers like a Frisbee, stunning the shorter man.

When Chuck and Amelia reached the eighth floor, they heard footsteps following them, clanging on the metal stairs, and echoing in the stairwell.

Amelia stopped him with a hand on his arm, leading him out of the stairwell on the seventh floor. She knew they had to hide quickly but where? Spying a laundry chute just a few meters from the stairs. She opened it, and stuck her head in. "Chuck! In here! Follow me!" She put her legs over the side just as Chuck did the same. Perched on the narrow ledge, they slid off, losing their hold when the door slammed, knocking them deeper into the chute seconds before the men in black burst out of the stairs.

The two men looked up and down the length of the hall, which was now silent, and empty.

~~O~~

Dusty and Shades carried their paintball rifles with them into the hotel's lobby. They received stares from the staff as well as guests and visitors, but paid them no mind. Still flying high from a glorious win at the Paintball Arena, they breezed up to the front desk. The clerk passed her keycard over with wide eyes.

At the arena, there was a team waiting to be called. They were short a couple of members, and asked Shades and Dusty to join them. They did so with enthusiasm.

Shades had a few splotches of red on his vest, camouflage jacket and pants. Dusty was paint-free, though dirty, showing her to be the hands down winner in this little "war." Shades didn't care that he'd been bested by a woman. He was just happy to get to spend time with her. "You never did tell me how long you're sticking around for."

Dusty smiled, and flicked an errant paintball husk off his vest. "Dunno. A few days, maybe."

Shades' voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Guess I'm gonna have to break the rules then."

With a soft laugh, Dusty stretched her neck. Taking on high school punks who thought they were warriors had been fun, but not much of a workout. "What rules?"

"The rule where I'm supposed to wait three days to call you again."

Dusty laughed. She wasn't ready to head up just yet, and motioned for Shades to follow her toward the bar. "I hate guys that do that. It's so unoriginal." Dusty smirked, and raised a finger to him. "I _do_ like that I know next to nothing about you. Most guys can't wait to tell me their life story."

With a small groan, Shades rolled his eyes. "Thankfully I'm not most guys _, Polvita._ Depending how long you stick around you might find something out."

Dusty chuckled, and walked armored arm in arm with Shades. "Not like you know jack about _me_ either. I'm not what you'd call normal _._ "

Shades chuckled, and fell into step with her. "Well then it's a good thing I'm highly adverse to normal."

Rolling her eyes, Dusty gave Shades a small smack with the back of her hand. "I had a great time today."

He drew her over near the window that looked out onto the courtyard, where they were partially hidden by a potted tree. They could be easily seen front the main entrance, but anyone coming in the side door would miss them. "Tomorrow we can do something that doesn't involve being shot at."

She stared at him unblinking. "Like what?"

With a devious smirk, Shade shrugged innocently. "I'm thinking late-night cruise on the beachfront, and a boat ride to Toronto Island. The city's beautiful from the lake at night."

She blew a bubble and sucked it back in. "What else ya got?"

He hooked his rifle over his shoulder, and turned her to face him more directly. His hands loosely gripped her arms just above the elbows giving her the option of stepping back, if she chose to. "I know the captain. He can get us dinner on the VIP deck. I might even sneak in a kiss or two while we're dancing."

The smile when away from her face, her free hand gripping the front of his vest. "Vince, look!" she whispered urgently. He followed her eyes, and saw six men enter the lobby from a side door. They were even more out of place than he was in this hotel.

Dressed all in black, they had a familiar look to them. It wasn't that Shades knew _them_ specifically. It was more he knew their type. Street thugs who would do almost anything for a buck. He didn't know why there were here, but he wasn't about to let them do it.

Hiding behind the tree, they watched as the men approached. Shades' superior hearing picked up snatches of conversation. The bit that angered him on Dusty's behalf was when he heard the leader say "…room 1003. The boss wants him taken care of _tonight._ No excuses, or we don't get paid. _"_

 **TBC**


	7. Chuck and the Sticky Situation

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Chuck and the Sticky Situation**

Dusty stepped out in front of the men with Shades at her side. "Where ya headed, boys? Is it a private party, or can we tag along?" She was cradling her paintball rifle, one finger caressing the trigger.

The leader, a swarthy man with a thick mustache, made to push her aside. "Out of my way, *****. We got business with one of the guests and it ain't none o' yours."

When they didn't move, the leader swung a fist at Dusty, his face showing shock at missing her by less than an inch. Shades grabbed the man's arm, and swung him away from Dusty, who hadn't even flinched. She just kept looking at the men with that unblinking dark brown stare that had intimidated more than a few people. She blew a bubble and let it pop.

Mustache attempted to pull his arm from Shades' grasp, but he was much stronger than his lean frame would suggest. The man nodded to the others and they moved forward.

Dusty immediately went on the offensive by bringing up one booted foot to kick the next guy in the groin. He jumped back, though she still managed to connect with his inside thigh. With a yelp of pain, he swung at Dusty, and as with Mustache, she turned to the side. She lashed out at a second man, catching him in the ribs. He grunted at the impact though it didn't slow him down. She followed that strike with a fist to the solar plexus.

His air whooshed out, and while he was getting his wind back, she used that same arm to get the first man in the throat with her elbow. He gagged and stumbled back, giving the her more room to maneuver.

She swore under her breath at not having her knife. Instead, she used a double kick-backfist combination to dispatch one of her opponents. He went down like a rock, and Dusty turned her attention to the other guy, who apparently decided he'd had enough. He tried to slip past her, falling on his face when she stuck her foot out to trip him. The man rolled into a ball, using his arms to protect his head as she brought her paintball rifle up and popped off three shots in quick succession getting him twice in the chest and once in the backside. Using the butt of her rifle, Dusty knocked him out with a rap on the back of the head.

She heard a gasp, and turned to see them being watched by the wide-eyed guests in the lobby. Raul was there as well, speaking urgently into his cell phone.

~~O~~

Chuck and Amelia sighed with relief when they heard the men go back into the stairwell.

"That was _too_ close," Chuck moaned once the footsteps had faded away. He and Amelia had fallen into the chute together, and had gotten jammed in the narrow chute.

Amelia grunted in frustration, and slapped him on the shoulder. "I told you to _follow_ me, not jump in _with_ me."

"Desperate times called for desperate measures," Chuck replied in his own defense.

"So how do we get out of this, genius?" Amelia shifted her feet looking for a surface below them but felt nothing. They slipped imperceptibly, grabbing onto each other again in a small flash of fear that they might fall.

"Let me think." He was quiet for a few moments. "Hmm…"

"What? Does that 'hmm' mean something?"

Chuck shrugged. "Sorta."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, Chuckles." She leaned to the right just enough to see what was below. Only a sliver of light was visible. "No pun intended."

He shook his, adding a chuckle on the end. "That the second bottle of wine was _not_ one of our better ideas on this op, though the bottle did come in handy."

She rested her forehead on his chest, and smiled in agreement. Chuck pressed his cheek against the top of her head, surprising her with how natural it felt for them to be together like this. Not stuck in a laundry chute, but pressed up against each other. _It's been a while since I've been in this position. It feels good._

His phone rang, and there was just enough room for Amelia to reach into his back pocket for it. He showed her the screen, swearing softly before answering. "Hey, Blitz. What?! How was _I_ supposed to know…" Wincing, he held the phone away from his ear. Amelia could hear a loud and very angry female voice screaming, first in English, then in French. Chuck responded to Blitz's tirade in the same language. "Okay, we'll be there in the morning… Because we're busy at the moment… _Early_."

He shut the phone off. Amelia took it, and returned it to his back pocket, exhaling loudly in annoyance. "What now?"

"Her clients reviewed the data. To say they were not happy that it turned out to be old news would be an understatement. She's threatening to turn us in if we don't get her useable information. General Landry would intercede on our behalf, but that wouldn't put her and Boone in jail for this or their other crimes."

"So, what's next?"

"We get out of here, and try to figure out who wants me dead and why, while at the same time getting Blitz what she wants. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with why we're here, so it's a mystery we're probably not going to solve tonight." Amelia had no response, so she squeezed his biceps in silent support. "Landry can help with both."

Chuck looked up, and smiled. Amelia followed his gaze, and saw that they weren't far from the door they'd come through.

~~O~~

"I think I can reach it." Chuck's fingertips touched the lip of the chute, but he wasn't able to get a grip. His hands came to rest on Amelia's shoulders at her grunt of pain. "You okay?"

"Your belt buckle's digging into my stomach."

Repressing a snort, Chuck said, "Sorry." He tried moving his hips to dislodge it, but that didn't work.

"Don't do that. Now it's caught on my shirt. Here, just let me…" Amelia slowly slipped one hand between them, trying to work the material free.

But that wasn't working either. Her actions caused an altogether different reaction when her fingers rubbed the front of his pants. His fingers wrapped around her wrist to still her movements. "Amelia, stop." He knew it hadn't been her intention. The problem was God gave men a brain _and_ a penis, but only enough blood to run one at a time, and all of his rushed south of the border the second she'd touched. "Amelia!"

~~O~~

"What? I've almost got it." Amelia continued to wiggle her fingers, and soon felt something hard pressing against them. The more she moved her hand, the harder it became. "Chuck!"

"Sorry." He was genuinely apologetic. Yet, when Amelia looked up into his face, he was grinning in amusement.

"That'd better be a digital pen, Campbell." She tried to extract her hand again, her voice trailing off. As an experiment, she deliberately moved the backs of her fingers up and down, causing him to moan.

Finally, she let him pull her hand out. "I, uh, think it's free now." His voice was soft and husky.

Her eyes roamed over his face, but what she was looking for got lost when he lowered his head. She tilted her head to one side, waiting for his lips to touch hers. They'd kissed before, but it had all been for show, to solidify their cover story. Now it was different because there were no witnesses.

~~O~~

Their lips had just made contact when Chuck slipped down until his face was pressed into her cleavage, making them both laugh. His hands came to rest on her shoulders. Unable to move his head, he spoke into her chest, the positon muffling his voice. "I could say something right now about there being lots of men in both galaxies who would gladly pay money to be in this position, but I won't because that would be…"

His warm breath hummed across the sensitive skin between her breasts, causing other parts of her anatomy to react, leaving her slightly breathless. "Offensive? Vulgar? Insulting?"

"Yeah, and I don't want you to… aaahhh!"

He slid downward again, and kept going with Amelia right behind him, both of them screaming as they fell through the winding chute. Chuck didn't want to even think about the bruises they'd have this time tomorrow.

~~O~~

Their screams cut off when they came to a sudden stop, breaking through one last door, and landing in an enormous laundry cart on wheels filled with dirty linens. Their impact set the cart rolling. It careened across the cement floor, and ran into the front of a bank of giant washers. The cart tipped over and dumped them unceremoniously on the floor in a tangle of bedclothes, towels, arms and legs. Amelia battled her way out from under a sheet and several towels to find herself on top of Chuck with her face in his crotch. She pushed herself off with a muttered "Sorry."

They sorted themselves out, and he helped her to her feet as he took in their surroundings. "Laundry room," he remarked almost casually. They found the elevator, got in, and rode back to their room, both staring straight ahead without speaking.

~~O~~

Shades used Mustache's arm to pull him forward as his other hand came up to sock him under the jaw. His head sapped back, causing him to stumble. Shades released him, and met the next guy head on, giving him a double shot of blue paintball in the face for his trouble. While he recovered, Shades dropped the rifle, and got into a boxer's stance, fining his target with near-perfect accuracy. He hit so fast, and with such power, that his opponent went down and, though not unconscious, showed no signs of getting up anytime soon.

Instinctively, he turned in time to hit Mustache with a quick thrust, catching him under the nose with the heel of his hand. Blood spurted, and Shades jumped back to avoid the spray.

Mustache's eyes darkened in anger as he surged forward again with a bellow of pure rage, only to find himself flying through the air to land on a coffee table between two overstuffed sofas. The table collapsed, and Mustache was out for the count.

" _Pendejo!_ "

The other three decided to cut their losses. They stumbled over to pick up their leader, and hightailed it out the side entrance.

Shades wiped the paint from his hands, and retrieved his sunglasses from the floor. As he put them on, he turned to see Dusty watching him with awe. "What?"

Without a word, she grabbed him by his vest, pulled him to her, and planted a long hot kiss on him. His shock lasted less than a second. His hands came up to rest on her upper arms as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

They watched each other for a few heartbeats, then Dusty got a strange look in her eyes. "Four."

Surprised at how firm her muscles were, Shades shook his head in a double take at the abrupt change of subject. "Sorry?"

She took a step back, and his hands fell away, her entire demeanor changing. "Those ninja-wannabes. We took down four, but there were six total."

Shades gasped out, "Sneaker and Spunky!"

~~O~~

Dusty vaulted out of the elevator before the doors completely opened with Shades right behind her, his weapon gripped tight in both fists. A young man was uprighting an overturned cart. There was food, dishes and silverware all over and the carpet would need cleaning. With a flash of insight, Dusty knew that Chuck and Amelia had caused the mess. "This way!"

She led the way to room 1003. At the door, they paused to listen, hearing what sounded like fighting. Something slammed against the wall, glass shattered, and unintelligible voices. Dusty checked that the hopper on her rifle was full, and nodded.

Shades nodded, letting he know he was ready. Dusty raised her right foot to kick the door open, and was taken aback when she realized it wasn't locked. She and Shades burst into the room with weapons ready, skidding to a halt in disbelief at the scene laid out before them.

 **Blitz's Apartment**

Zack stood with his ear to the door listening to his mother attempting to appease her client. Chuck had apparently retrieved bogus information, and that confused the young man. The feeling he got from Chuck was that he did everything with great attention to detail. However, this was more like Boone had done it.

He liked Boone, calling him Danny to tease him, but the man was not nearly as smart as he thought he was. Glancing at his mom's boyfriend showed that he was still glued to the game. Zack sometimes watched with him, just to be nice, to make sure they got along for Mom's sake.

These past few days he felt an undertone beneath the conversations, telling him something else was going on besides the job. Since the day he'd come home from university for his monthly visit every word and glance that passed between his mom, Boone and the others gave the impression of a double meaning. Even Dusty was a part of it, though he wasn't exactly sure how she was involved.

From their conversations, he got the feeling that she hadn't known Chuck and Amelia long, yet they seemed to have the kind of rapport that usually develops over time, and with shared experiences.

The phone call ended, and Zack listened to his mother pacing angrily back and forth. When she was like this, sometimes he could get her to tell him things she would normally keep to herself. Going to the bedroom, he grabbed her purse, and slipped out the door without Boone having moved a muscle.

~~O~~

Zack closed the door behind him and went to stand in front of Blitz, taking her hand in his. "Let's get out of here for a while. I'll buy you a cup of overpriced coffee." His tone was wheedling, and she responded to it.

"That's the best offer I've had in a long time."

 **The Coffee Shoppe**

Within ten minutes, Blitz and Zack were sitting in the same coffee shop where she had reunited with Chuck. They took a table in the corner farthest from everyone else. Zack placed a steaming cup in front of his mother, and sat down across from her, scooting his chair so that he could watch the door. He didn't know _why_ he did it, but it just seemed right.

"What's this about, Zack?"

His innocent look needed work. "I can't treat my mother to a coffee without there being an ulterior motive?"

She smiled indulgently. "Tell me what's bothering you, _cheri_."

~~O~~

He twisted the cardboard sleeve around his cup back and forth stalling for time. Unbidden, her memory replaced Zack with his father. They walked the same, smiled the same, and even had some of the same mannerisms. When it came to intelligence, Zack was so smart he could have gone to university by the age of fourteen, but she'd purposely kept him with his peer group, and encouraged activities outside of studying so he wouldn't end up a socially inept outcast like so many others like him.

The one thing she regretted was the way she'd supported the two of them since Roman divorced her, and returned to France. It would all be over soon. This job would net them enough cash to keep her in Mimosas, and hot and cold running cabana boys until she turned old and gray. She ran a hand through her blonde mane, contemplating going back to her original hair color.

Zack took a sip of his coffee before replying. "I've been thinking." He drew a design on the table with his finger. "About math."

Her brows came together in annoyance. "It's that professor, isn't it? Is he still giving you a hard time?"

He touched her hand. "Mom, I'm talking basic everyday math."

She switched from English to French to keep their conversation private netting them annoyed glances from the other patrons. "You take too long to get to the point, _cheri_."

"How's this for getting to the point? Is Chuck my father?"

Her free hand clenched in her lap. "Where did you get that idea?"

"My birthday is coming up in a few months. Four, to be exact. As you've mentioned before, Chuck left seventeen years and eight months ago. Seventeen years plus _nine_ months equals Happy Father's Day."

Sighing heavily, Blitz took a fortifying sip of coffee, and returned the cup to the table. "Why couldn't you have gotten my hair color instead of my brains?" She thought for a second, and grinned. "Oh, wait, you did." Zack laughed dutifully. "How about the Cole's Notes?"

Zach leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, waiting.

~~O~~

Blitz watched her son looking at his hands, rubbing them together. She didn't know if that was a good sign or not.

"Fine. Why haven't you told him yet?"

"I wanted the two of you to get to know each other first, so please don't say anything." She watched his face, but he gave very little away. Inside that incredible brain, she knew the wheels were turning at breakneck speed. He had to work things out on his own. All she could do was be there when or if he had more questions.

 **The Hotel Temporadas**

 **Room 1003**

Taking in the scene, Dusty shook her head. She looked at Shades, and his eyes had the same stunned expression.

The room had been partially trashed. An overturned chair, end table, and lamp with the shade dented on one side had been the first to go. The house phone was on the floor beeping incessantly. In the dining area, a vase lay on the floor, the flowers scattered over the table, with a few on the floor.

Chuck was lying on the dining room table with Amelia astride his hips. They were kissing like nobody's business. His shirt was unbuttoned, and his hands were up under the bottom edge of Amelia's shirt.

Dusty and Shades shared a glance. The couple were so engrossed in their pursuit of each other, they hadn't noticed they had company. "Wanna come up for air, _cabron_? You have guests."

With a gasp, Amelia pushed off the table, and Chuck joined her, the two of them straightening their clothes without meeting Dusty's or Shades' knowing looks.

Shades pulled his Oakleys down, looking at them over the top, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. "Reminds me of Kool Haus the night DJ DawgDaddy came to town. The owner replaced that sofa the next day, and burned the old one."

~~O~~

Dusty had caught them with their pants down, figuratively, and was having _way_ too much fun.

Chuck wasn't sure what to say. He knew, as did Dusty and Amelia, that fraternization between members of the military of equal ranks, while not exactly forbidden, was frowned upon when they were in the same general command structure. While they were all the same rank, Chuck was their superior by virtue of having been in rank longer than the women, and should be setting an example instead of flaunting the rules. Add to that the fact that he and Amelia literally worked side-by-side.

They both knew Dusty wouldn't let them live this down, especially once Shades was gone. It was in her eyes, and the slow up and down of her jaws as she chewed her gum.

"So, you guys liked it rough, huh?"

"I'm sure it's a very interesting story how this came about, and we'd love to hear it, but right now we gotta work on getting the three of you to a safe house before the bad guys come back. So, pack it up, and let's hit it."

Confused, Amelia said, "Hit what?"

"The road, _muñeca_. I know a place you can stay. We'll ditch the SUV, just in case."

It didn't escape the notice of the three from the SGC that Shades' accent came and went depending on the seriousness of the situation or his emotional state. Now he was issuing orders with the authority of someone used to having them obeyed without question which they did.

"I'll bring my wheels around, and we'll slip out the back before the OPP arrives." He took off down the hall, and disappeared into the stairwell.

Amelia went into the bedroom to pack their clothes and personal items, while Chuck packed the computer equipment. They didn't have much, so it didn't take long for the trio to be on their way.

~~O~~

Shades whipped out his cell, hitting speed dial with his thumb once he'd reached the seventh floor landing. "It's me… There's been a complication… They don't suspect a thing… I got it all under control… Send Ramirez to pick me up at the Sleep Easy Motel. Tell him to use the Harley… I'm trying to impress a girl… You are freakin' hilarious, partner… Don't make me come over there and kick your ass again." The conversation ended just as he fired up the Mustang's engine. He gunned it once, and shifted smoothly into first.

~~O~~

Their mad dash down the stairs was unusually quiet. By the time they reached the third floor, it was a situation Chuck could no longer tolerate. "Okay, Dusty. Out with it."

"You lied. Both of you. More than once."

Chuck looked over his shoulder at Amelia but she just looked back with a pained expression. "We weren't lying, Dusty. We just got a little carried away and-Ow!"

Amelia punched him on the shoulder. "Now she thinks we've been sexing it up all this time."

"You _haven't?_ " Dusty blew a bubble as she hit the crash bar on the ground floor door. They took a quick right then a left.

"No!" Chuck and Amelia exclaimed together as they escaped into the open. Shades was already there, and for the next few moments, they occupied themselves with stowing their gear, and getting buckled in.

From shotgun, Chuck asked Shades, "What about the SUV?"

The dark-haired man smiled secretively as he put out his hand. Chuck handed over the keys without hesitation. "Leave that to me, _cabron_. I have a plan." He looked into the rear-view mirror, catching Dusty's eye. "Got a hat, _Polvita?_ "

Her lips quirked up slightly. "Yeah. Why?"

Shades winked. "Then hold on to it!" He pulled out of the parking lot, made a sharp left, roared down the street, and blew through the light just as it was turning red.

 **TBC**

 _Muñeca_ – Doll

 _Cabron_ – Dumbass


	8. The Chuck is Eternal

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 7**

 **The Chuck is Eternal**

 **Sleep Easy Motel**

The owner of the motel was a friend of Shades', and already had two rooms ready for the trio as far from the main street and other guests as possible. Shades went into the lobby, got the keys, and drove them around to the back of the building. Once they were settled he tossed Dusty a set of keys. "You'll need wheels so take the 'stang."

"How ya gettin' home, Vince?" Dusty wanted to know.

He smiled, and shrugged, but she didn't smile back. Holding in a sigh, he relented. "I'll be fine. Got a ride comin'." The roar of a motorcycle reached them moments before it pulled into the parking lot. He gave her hand a squeeze. "Good-night, _mi querida_."

He climbed on the bike behind the driver, slipped on the helmet that had been strapped to the seat, snapped the chin strap, tapped the shoulder of the other man, and away they went.

She watched him go as she blew a bubble, and sucked it back in. When she turned around Amelia was leaning against the wall between the two rooms, smirking.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Good." Dusty went in her room, and slammed the door.

~~O~~

Amelia closed the door, and turned around to find the room empty. The shower came on telling her Chuck was the bathroom. This motel was different than those she'd seen in the US. In addition to the queen bed, dresser, armoire with television, kitchenette, and small table with two chairs, it had a sofa. After what happened when they left the laundry room, she didn't trust Chuck to stay on his own side of the bed tonight.

 _Who are you kidding, Banks? It's yourself you don't trust._

Her musings were cut short when Chuck came out of the bathroom in his pajamas, clothes in one hand, and boots in the other. While putting his clothes in one of the dresser drawers, he spoke over his shoulder, avoiding looking directly at Amelia. "Bathroom's all yours. Want something from the vending machine?"

"No, thanks. I'm just gonna get a shower."

~~O~~

 _This is ridiculous!_ Chuck's internal voice screamed at him. _There's no reason for us to be uncomfortable with each other. We're still friends_. "Amelia…"

"I know." She pulled pajamas, toothbrush and toothpaste from her bag, and went into the bathroom.

When she came out he was sitting at the table with his laptop. "I sent an email to General Landry with an update. It's a good thing he decided not to pick them up until they were leaving the country."

"Right." Amelia put her clothes away, speaking over her shoulder, "You're sleeping on the sofa tonight, by the way."

Taken aback, he looked at her with a confused expression. "Me? Why should _I_ sleep on the sofa?"

"Because you're the guy."

"That's the best reason you can come up with? 'Cause I'm the guy? Cliché much, Banks? Here, I thought you were a modern woman." He went to stand next her, their reflections staring back.

"Here's a home truth for you, Campbell. We _modern women_ bend the rules when it suits us. And tonight, it suits me." She shoved a pillow, and the spread at him, and he took them rather than let them fall on the floor.

He shook a finger at her as she turned down the side of the bed farthest from where he would be sleeping. "I know what this is. It's revenge for that first night."

"You got it. Especially after…"

Rather than argue, Chuck dropped the bedclothes on the sofa, and held his hands up in surrender. "Have it your way. I just want to point out that you're the one who started it." He shut up when Amelia smacked him in the face with a pillow. I'm just telling it like it went down, Banks."

Amelia's normally straight posture sagged. "I'm tootired to deal with this tonight. Please, just go to sleep."

Without another word, Chuck went to the sofa that was more like a love seat. He lay down, propping his legs on the armrest. Moving around, trying to get comfortable was a losing battle. Sleep wouldn't come easy tonight, and not just because the sofa was lumpy.

Normally, he wasn't one to wish misery on another, especially not a friend. But listening to Amelia tossing and turning satisfied him in a non-sexual way. _At least I'm not the only one who won't be getting a good night's sleep_. He turned on his side so his back was to the room. If she found it disdainful, then he'd accomplished his goal for the night.

The combination of alcohol, the fading adrenaline rush, and unresolved sexual tension drained his energy reserves. And, despite his prediction, he was asleep within seconds.

 **The Next Morning**

"Why do _you_ get to drive?" Chuck demanded of Dusty.

"Shades gave _me_ the keys, that's why." Dusty watched Chuck with her unblinking stare as he stretched, and moaned while massaging his lower back.

Dusty smirked, compelling him to explain. "I slept on the sofa." Her look of disbelief irritated him. Amelia came out at that moment yawning, and stretching. "Ask her."

"Ask me what?" The words were snapped, irritation in every syllable.

Twisting at the waist to loosen the muscles in his back, Chuck pointed his chin at Dusty. "Tell her I slept on the sofa."

"He slept on the sofa." The door to their room slammed, punctuating the last word. Amelia climbed into the back seat of the Mustang, sitting with her arms crossed, and wearing her best scowl. "I don't give a **** _what_ she believes. Just _get_ me some _freakin'_ _coffee_."

Dusty got behind the wheel, buckled in, and slipped on the sunglasses hanging from the rear-view mirror while waiting for Chuck to claim shotgun. He slammed the door, buckled his seatbelt, crossed his arms, and stared out the front window.

~~O~~

Keeping in mind that the car was a loaner, Dusty pulled smoothly out of the parking lot, staying within the posted speed limits, and obeying most of the traffic laws. She drove with the same precision and skill she put into taking out the enemy. And she was pissed that her friends were on the outs. The entire drive to the restaurant, and while they ate, Chuck and Amelia hardly said more than two words to each other.

Less than a mile from Blitz's apartment, Dusty pulled over to the side of the road, and turned the car off, Chuck finally taking notice of their surroundings. "What're you doing?"

Dusty turned in her seat as much as the seatbelt would allow, and looked them both in the eye. "The kids hate it when Mom and Dad fight."

Amelia and Chuck looked at her with eyes wide, then at each other. When their eyes met, they dissolved in a fit of giggles all out of proportion to the situation.

Chuck shook his head, and grinned. "Mom and Dad?" His tone made Amelia laugh again.

Now Dusty was smiling too. "See? That wasn't so hard."

 **Blitz's Apartment**

Blitz, Boone, and Chuck were having a real tail-twisting argument from what Amelia, Zack and Dusty could hear with their ears pressed against the door. They jumped back when someone, probably Boone, kicked the door.

The yelling abruptly cut off, and the three eavesdroppers rushed to get out of the way. When the door opened, Dusty and Zack were playing a video game, and Amelia was reading a magazine.

Without a word, Chuck went to his laptop, booted up, and got to work. He cast a quick glance at Amelia when she joined him, a small smile appearing as if by magic. It made him smile too, to knowing that, no matter what, he would always have her friendship. Reaching out, they gripped each other's hands.

~~O~~

Blitz watched her ex and his girlfriend with an unreadable expression then went into her bedroom, and softly closed the door. A few minutes later she came out again. Boone was checking messages on his phone while Dusty and Zack continued playing their game.

She tapped Boone on the shoulder, and together, they went to the door. "Zack, Boone and I are going out for a bit. Stay out of…"

"…trouble. Got it." Blitz came back to kiss his cheek, and Zack, a master at multi-tasking, never missing a beat. "Bye, Mom."

~~O~~

Not long after Blitz and Boone left, Chuck took a short break. He stood in the kitchen doorway watching Zack, looking for something of himself in the boy. He was smart, though not one to throw it in people's faces. Not like a certain astrophysicist of Chuck and Amelia's acquaintance. Chuck finished off his drink, tossed the bottle in the recycling bin, and returned to work.

~~O~~

Amelia's phone vibrated, alerting her that she had a message. She finished what she was doing, and tapped the screen, side-eying Chuck before responding. In the living room, Dusty and Zack had shut off the video games and were dancing to a classic radio station. Ann Wilson was belting out _Barracuda_.

Chuck went to the kitchen for a snack, and stopped to watch Zack again. The boy didn't know he was there, and Chuck watched in horrid fascination as Zack opened his mouth, and inserted his foot all the way up to the knee. "Got some great moves there, Dusty. Think you could teach me?"

Amelia winced as well, and resisted snorting. Dusty, thank goodness, didn't immediately shoot him down. "Any time, Zack-ster. How about tonight? We could go to a club, have a couple of beers, and-oh, wait. What's the legal drinking age in Toronto, Chuck-meister?"

"Nineteen, the last I checked."

Dusty winced. "Oh, too bad, pal. Ask me again when you're legal." She smiled to soften the blow. He blushed, and nodded. "Besides, you don't want your next date to laugh at you for dancin' like a girl." They both laughed, and turned the music up.

She pulled her phone from a back pocket. "Gotta get this. Be right back."

~~O~~

Amelia tapped out a quick message on her phone, and Chuck caught her.

"Who you texting, Spunky? Not an ex, I hope."

"My sister, Francesca. She's in ninth grade, and having BFF problems."

Chuck sauntered over. "And what did you tell her?"

"That a friend will help you move, but a best friend will help you move a body." He shot a look at her, and she couldn't hide the twinkle of humor in her eyes. Kidding. I told her a friend is one of the nicest things you can have, and one of the best things you can be. And just because you haven't known each other long doesn't mean you can't be the best of friends, or that that friendship can't last a lifetime."

Chuck thought over what she said. "Is there some hidden message there, perchance?"

Amelia looked over her shoulder, and his eyes followed hers. They watched Dusty playing with Zack. She grabbed him around the neck, bent him at the waist, and gave him noogies, making him screech in protest. "None that I'm aware of."

~~O~~

Chuck saved his work, pushed back from the table, and stood, stretching, and scratching his stomach.

Dusty and Amelia were in the kitchen speaking in intense whispers that stopped when he joined them.

His mind and body needed time away from work, so he went into the front room to see if he could get to know Zack a little better, just in case. The boy seemed happy to spend time with him. They talked for a few minutes about Ryerson, and what the boy's plans were after graduation. Then _American Pie_ came on the radio, and Chuck got up to dance, and sing along.

He was so into it, he grabbed Dusty as she came out of the kitchen. They danced around in the confined space, laughing as he spun her around.

The song ended, changed to something slow and romantic. Chuck pulled Amelia from her chair, and into his arms, moving them around the floor. He'd just tipped her back into a shallow dip when he noticed that Dusty had her head cocked to the side, listening to something apparently only she could hear. She used the remote to turn the music down.

"What is it?" Chuck asked in a harsh whisper.

Her hand slashed the air, telling him to stop talking. "Someone's on the stairs."

Zack headed for the door, and Dusty grabbed him as he passed. "It's probably Mom and Boone."

"It's not them. There're four, all male. They're up to no good, or they wouldn't be sneakin' in." She tucked the thumb-sized remote into her left front pocket, and drew the boy away from the door. "How're your fighting skills, Zack?"

"I can hold my own. Of course, I haven't been in a fight since grade six."

Dusty snorted. "It'll have to do. They're here. Get ready."

Chuck grabbed the first things he thought would make good weapons, and nodded that he was ready. Seconds later, the front door was kicked in, followed by four men, all in the mid-to late twenties range.

Dusty came from the hallway, getting one guy in the knee with the toe of her sneaker. He almost avoided it, but not quite. He grunted at the impact, and swung a fist at her in retaliation. She dodged easily, wrapped her fingers around his wrist, turned to face away from him, and drove the other elbow into his ribs.

Breaking his hold, she came around, hitting him under the nose. Spinning away, she grabbed the lamp from the side table, and broke it over his head. The man took a small step forward, and slumped to the floor amidst pieces of ceramic, and shards of glass from the broken bulb. Chuck and Amelia were holding their own, so she turned to help Zack.

Zack's opponent had gotten him in a full nelson. They were swaying awkwardly back and forth as the boy tried unsuccessfully to break the man's hold.

Dusty took a step in his direction. He gave a small shake of his head to let her know he had it under control. With a grin, Zack let himself go limp, slithering out of the man's grasp. Zack rolled to his feet behind his opponent, grabbed an umbrella from the coat rack, and brought it around to connect solidly with the man's backside.

He yelled a stream of swear words as he fell to his knees in front of the speaker. Zack twisted the volume knob up to maximum, stunning the man. He planted a foot on his butt, and pushed his attacker head first into the wall. When Zack faced her again, Dusty was watching him with admiration. "You got some moves yourself, pal. Ever think of joinin' up?"

"Not really the type to take orders. I gotta question everything."

From the kitchen, Chuck called out, "'Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.' Albert Einstein."

"It's a philosophy I take to heart, Chuck!"

~~O~~

Two men advanced on Chuck, ignoring Amelia, which was a bad idea at the best of times. And this wasn't one of them. Using a skillet and a whisk to defend himself, Chuck connected solidly with side of the first man's head, momentarily stunning him. He obviously hadn't expected him to fight back.

When the other man grabbed Chuck by the arm, Amelia bent her knees slightly, turned, and kicked out and up, her left heel getting him in the chest. He stumbled back a step as she planted that same foot, and pivoted, getting him with a roundhouse kick to the ribs. She followed it up with a left, right, left, uppercut combination that caused him to stumble.

While his guy was distracted, Chuck dropped the whisk, grabbed the skillet's handle in both hands, clocking the man on the upswing. The impact knocked the pan from his hands, and Chuck reached for another weapon, coming up with ceramic coffee canister. He raised it above his head, stopping when Amelia shouted, "Not the coffee!" He immediately exchanged the canister for the toaster.

The men who'd been dispatched by Dusty, Amelia and Zack were just coming around when what was left of the front door banged against the wall, and Shades entered as if he were out for a Sunday stroll in the park. He surveyed the scene with a slight smile, seemingly amused by the scene, though the look in his eyes was familiar to Chuck. Shades was _not_ amused. Not even a little.

Chuck set the toaster on the counter, and waited. He was the only one of their group who'd noticed Shades' arrival.

Amelia had dropped into a boxing stance, and was pummeling the third guy with her fists. Zack had jumped on the back of the guy he'd already defeated once, holding on tight while the man tried to buck him off.

Shades put two fingers in his mouth, and whistled.

Dusty froze in place with the last guy bent over the recliner, his face pushed into the seat, and one arm twisted behind his back. Amelia backed off, and came to stand with Chuck. Zack, and the guy he was fighting, stopped, and separated.

"Sorry I'm late, _mis amigos_. Looks like you started the party without me." He pulled his ever-present Oakleys down so he could look over the top, his black eyes coming to rest on the man Chuck had been about to smash over the head with the toaster.

"Rafael, _cabron_? Still taking the s*** jobs, huh?" He didn't seem surprised to see him there. "Working as hitman now, _pintamonas_."

The man called Rafael suddenly looked nervous. "Shades, _amigo_. Wh-what're you doing here?"

" _I_ was invited." He flashed a grin at Dusty. "Right, _Polvita?_ " She said nothing. Just stared back as he turned to the man Amelia had been fighting. "This is a private party, _hombres_. I'm gonna have to ask you all to leave."

" _Si_ , _si_ , Vince. We were just leaving." There was a chorus of agreement from his companions as well.

As Rafael passed him, Shades gripped him on the shoulder so hard he winced. Shades pulled off the sunglasses, using the same hand to poke Rafael in the chest. "And don't let me catch you bothering my friends again. _Comprende, bruto?_ Not now. Not ever."

The four men hurried out the door, their footsteps thundering on the stairs. Moments later a car engine roared.

As though nothing had happened, Shades replaced his glasses, went to the 'fridge, and pulled out a bottle of water. Dusty followed him voicing the questions they all wanted to ask. "What was that about? You _know_ those guys?"

He took a swig and recapped the bottle. "Yes. Now go back to the motel. I'll stay with Zack until Blitz gets home. And don't worry. They won't be back."

"I don't need a babysitter, Shades." Zack's voice trailed off when he realized no one was listening.

They were too wound up to get any more work done tonight, so Amelia shut down the computers.

Dusty stepped in front of Shades. "How do you know them?"

"Doesn't matter. Just _go_. Get something to eat, get a good night's sleep, and forget it happened. I'll catch up with you later." He turned away, obviously expecting them to do as he said without question.

But not Dusty. Her curiosity _and_ ire were up. "Dammit, Vince, those bastards were trying to killus, and you just brush it off? Put yourself in our shoes, and tell me _you_ wouldn't wanna know."

"They weren't trying to kill _all_ of you, Dusty. Just Sneaker. But rest assured they won't try again. I know you want to know, but you don't _need_ to know. And when you _do_ need to know, I will tell you." He dropped onto the sofa, and picked up the television remote. Dusty blocked his view, hands on her hips. He stood again, glaring at her over the top of his glasses, his voice quiet, but without the dangerous edge it had before. "Remember I said you knew jack about me?" She blew a bubble and nodded. "Well, you _still_ don't know jack. Now go. I promise you won't be bothered again."

"If that's the best you can do, Vince, forget about Toronto Island." Dusty turned her back on him in a mixture of anger and disappointment.

His mood matched hers. "Done, and done."

She stormed into the kitchen where Chuck and Amelia had taken refuge from the battle they saw coming. She paced back and forth in the confined space, chewing her gum, and muttering under her breath. "If he really wanted us to be together, he would tell the truth."

Amelia hissed in her ear when she came close, "This is a _mission_ , remember? Not the Dating Game."

Dusty snorted. "Same to you." She looked pointedly at Chuck and Amelia holding hands. They hurriedly let go.

Chuck went back into the front room to speak to Shades. "Why is someone trying to have me killed?"

Shades shrugged, not taking his eyes from the screen. "Haven't found that out yet, but I will."

He was so confident the danger was over that Chuck believed him. The group gathered their jackets from the floor where they'd fallen during the skirmish, and put them on.

"Good night," Chuck murmured as they left the apartment.

Chuck had first-hand knowledge of Shade's past, but he'd never seen him wield the kind of power they'd witnessed tonight. He said nothing on the ride back to the motel, preferring to be alone with his thoughts. His friends respected his wishes, and stay quiet as well.

~~O~~

Shades was deep in thought, staring at the television without really seeing it. So much so that he nearly struck out when Zack sat down next to him. "So?"

"So what?" He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"So-oo…when are you going to tell me what's _really_ going on?

"What do _you_ know about it, _mijo_?"

Zack smiled at the term of endearment from a man who only let a select few see his softer side. Dusty didn't know how honored she was to get those fleeting glimpses. The boy pulled out the only card he possessed. "I'm 17, not _stupid._ I have an officially recorded IQ of 190, or maybe it's 109. I keep forgetting." They both laughed then there was a long pause while they each tried to stare the other down. "I could have completed this job in less than two days."

"Why didn't you?"

"Didn't want Mom to know that I know about her unsavory activities." He chuckled. "She also has no idea that I'm the one who kept her and Boone from being caught on the last three gigs." At Shades' incredulous expression, he explained. "Boone was making rookie mistakes, and Mom only made it worse. So, when they went to bed, _I_ went to work keeping them out of prison." Zack scoffed at his friend's skeptical stare. "I don't plan on making it the family business. My plans tend more toward astrophysics, quantum mechanics, that kind of thing." Warming to the subject, he gestured with his hands. "I've been reading some interesting papers written by Dr Rodney McKay. He's a physicist who hasn't published in a few years. I've been trying to locate him. Got a few ideas I wanna run by him, see what he thinks."

~~O~~

Shades hit mute, and turned to the young man who was too smart for his own good watching him thoughtfully. "And did you find him?"

"No. But I _did_ find his sister. She lives in Vancouver. I was thinking of giving her a call to see if she would get me in touch with him, give me his email or something."

"A personal plea might just work." He slipped off his glasses, and tossed them on the coffee table. "Let's play a video game."

"You read my mind."

An hour after Chuck and the women left, Shades' cell rang. He excused himself to answer it. Chuck was on the other end, making one of the strangest requests he'd ever gotten. He told Chuck that what he wanted was into the Mustang's trunk, signed off and went back into the front room.

After checking the time, he decided he would chance leaving Zack alone, if Blitz didn't show soon. He was as certain as he could be that Dusty would call once she cooled off. However, if she didn't, he would call her, and do whatever he had to in order to convince her to have dinner with him tonight.

Blitz and Boone arrived less than five minutes later, to Shades' relief. He departed in such haste that it was almost rude. But he didn't care. He had a long drive ahead of him, and not much time.

 **Sleep Easy Motel**

Chuck pulled his jacket off and tossed it on the end of the sofa that had been his bed the night before. He got out the laptop, booted it up, and was just finishing an email to General Landry when Amelia came out of the bathroom. They didn't say anything to each other, just went about their bedtime routine.

His back had already been sore from sleeping on the sofa and now, after the fight at Blitz's apartment, he was stiff. In the shower, he stood under the hot water for a long time, and it helped, but not enough. Back out in the room, he put his clothes away, dropped his boots next to the sofa then did a few stretching exercises, groaning each time the muscles pulled.

Amelia sighed loudly. "Come here, and take your shirt off."

"Why?"

"I'm tired of listening to you grunt and moan. Take your shirt off, and lay on the bed on your stomach."

He did as she requested resting his left cheek on his folded arms. The bed shifted as she knelt next to him. She popped the top on a bottle of lotion, squirted a small amount into her palm then rubbed both hands together. Starting with his shoulders, she kneaded and squeezed his muscles. Bit by bit she worked her way down to the source of Chuck's pain: the lumbar area. He moaned and groaned every time she applied pressure.

"Mmm. That feels good. Thanks, 'Melia." His voice was muffled by his arms.

"That's what friends are for." He could hear the humor in her voice. "No going to sleep, are you?"

"Maybe." He'd been about to do just that when her hands rubbed in circles as she worked her way up to his shoulders, and down again. "Amelia, _please_ don't make me sleep on the sofa again."

She stopped at the top curve of his backside just under the edge of his pajama bottoms, moved around to his sides, and up to just under his arms pits, this over and over again.

His eyes snapped open when he felt parts of him stirring that should have remained dormant. As good as it felt, it was time to put a stop to what she was doing before it was too late _._

Chuck snorted to himself. _It's already too late. And when you roll over, she'll see._

"No worries, Chuck. And I'm sorry for last night."

"Yeah, me too." She dug her thumbs into the area between his scapulas, dissolving one last spot of tension, without knowing that she'd caused an altogether different sort tension elsewhere.

"All done." Amelia slapped him playfully on the backside, and turned to sit cross legged, leaning back on her hands.

The slap startled him, and he turned to face her, propping his head on his hand so he could look at her.

"You going to lay there all night, taking up most of the bed?"

Rolling away from her, he sat on the far side of the bed to put his shirt on. They stood at the same time, Amelia looking away. "Chu- _uck!_ "

Chuck fought the blush that threatened to turn his face red, without eve pretending to misunderstand. "It's involuntary, Amelia. Something that happens to heterosexual men when an attractive woman touches them in a way that can be construed as…" He trailed off, cleared his throat, and moved to the other side of the bed. "I'll sleep on the sofa."

Amelia turned down the covers, and got into bed. "Don't."

"You sure?" Chuck wanted to make certain he wasn't misunderstanding.

"Yes."

He got in next to her, and pulled the covers up to his chest. Lying side by side, Chuck and Amelia looked at each other for a moment then switched off the lights on their respective sides of the bed. All was quiet, just the soft swish of their breathing, and the usual night sounds.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

There was a long pause, before Amelia spoke again, as if she were thinking over all the ramifications of her next actions. Under the covers, she gripped his hand. "Come here."

 **TBC**

 _Barracuda_ is a song by the American rock band Heart. It was released May 1977 as the first single from the band's second album.

 _American Pie_ is a song by American folk rock singer and songwriter Don McLean, released November 1971.

 _Pintamonas_ \- Literally, one who draws female monkeys, or someone who is deluded into thinking they're talented.


	9. One Chuck Is Never Enough

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 8**

 **One Chuck Is Never Enough**

Dusty lay on the bed, channel surfing. It was still early, at least to a night owl like her, and she couldn't find anything that would hold her attention until she came upon, of all things, an American football game. She wasn't a fan of either team, but didn't complain. At least it was something she understood.

She had wanted to go to a movie or an arcade or something, but Chuck and Amelia claimed they were too tired, so here they were, back at the motel. They hadn't even wanted dinner. To keep the peace, Dusty didn't complain. She picked up the motel directory, and thought about ordering pizza.

Now that she had time to think about it, she wasn't all that pissed at Shades. He had only been doing what he thought best under the circumstances. Even if she didn't know all the details, she understood. To be truthful, she was actually impressed at the sort of quiet power he seemed to hold over the more unsavory elements of the Toronto underground. Not that she condoned his possible criminal activities, but she was impressed none-the-less.

Not five minutes into the game's second quarter, someone started banging on the walls. From the rhythmic pounding, Dusty knew what was going on. _At least someone's getting' laid around here_.

She ignored the noise as much as possible until the realization that it was coming from Chuck and Amelia's room. A smirk settled over her face. "Finally. Now maybe the sexual tension'll ease up."

 **Sle** **ep E** **asy** **Motel**

Shades stopped the Harley's engine a half a block from the motel, and rolled it the rest of the way. He parked next to the Mustang, and opened the storage under the seat. He removed a garment bag and a box, placing them on the hood of the car.

~~O~~

The noise next door had gotten quieter, but Dusty could still hear the distinctive sounds of a major mattress dancing session, and it was starting to creep her out. Taking out her phone, she hit dial. Her call was answered on the third ring.

" _Shades. Talk to me_."

"It's Dusty."

" _Ah, Polvita. I didn't expect to hear from you tonight_."

Dusty wasn't good with small talk or apologies so she got right to it. "Cut the crap, Vince. Do you still want to have dinner with me?"

" _It would be my pleasure to escort you to dinner,_ _mi querida_ _. Do you have a preference, or should I surprise you?_ "

"Surprise me." She was smiling now, and it showed in her voice. "It's a good thing you answered, Vince. I found two grand in your glove compartment today, and one way or another it was going into the Dusty Entertainment Fund. So, get your ass here pronto."

Shades laughed. " _Your wish is my command. Open the door_."

"What?"

" _Please_ _, open the door_."

Dusty went to the window, and peeked through the curtain. Shades was leaning against the hood of the Mustang, ankles crossed, and grinning. His ubiquitous Oakleys hung from the front of his shirt. It was strange for her to be able to see his eyes. She shut off the phone, and set it on the table. "How long you been out here?"

He shrugged as if it were nothing. "Not long."

"Thought you didn't expect to hear from me tonight."

"I was just about to call you." He picked up the garment bag and box. "These are for you. The restaurant where I've made reservations is a little more upscale than pizza and hot wings. I didn't think you had anything appropriate with you, so I took the liberty. The dress is a six, and the shoes are seven."

"How did you…?"

Another shrug. "Lucky guess."

She took the items from him, leaned in to give him a quick kiss then went back into her room. A few minutes later she emerged wearing a simple black dress that ended three inches above her knees. It had long sleeves and a scooped neck. She'd taken her hair down from its usual ponytail and brushed it out, the layers falling in waves to the middle of her back. In the box with the black two-inch heels had been a small black purse which she clutched in her right hand.

Turning in a circle so he could get the full effect, she was gratified to hear him whistle. " _Te miras linda._ " Just then banging started from the room next door, startling him. "What the _hell_ is _that?_ "

Dusty rolled her eyes. "Chuckles and Spunky are gettin' funky. They aren't usually so loud, but danger gets them in the mood. And _boy_ have theybeen in the mood tonight."

Shades nodded understanding. "Been goin' at it a while, have they?" Dusty nodded vigorously as he helped her into the passenger seat. He went around to the driver's side, buckled in, started the car and pulled into traffic. "I hope you're not afraid of heights, _Polvita._ "

"I'm not. Why?"

"Because I'm going take you higher than you've ever been."

She laughed with him, but not for the same reason. In her position on an SG team she'd been places, done and seen things that would have curled his hair. She was also certain that whatever he had planned for the two of them would be something to write home about.

 **On the Boardwalk and**

 **The CN Tower**

Shades and Dusty walked along the Woodbine Beach boardwalk. It was a cloudless night filled with stars. The moon was nearly full. The moon and the city lights reflected off the water, rippling with the passing of a light breeze. After a while Dusty turned to Shades. "This is beautiful, Vince, but you promised to take me higher than I've ever been."

"So, I did." He took her by the hand, and led her back to the car. A few minutes later they were pulling up to the valet stand at the base of the CN Tower. They stepped into the glass floor paneled elevator, and were whisked up to the 360 Restaurant. Shades gave his name to the _maître d'_ , and they were escorted to a table near the windows where they enjoyed a wonderful meal, and _shared a bottle of_ excellent wine _._

When they were done eating, he escorted her up to the Sky Pod. They made one complete circuit of the observation area, where they were treated to an awe-inspiring view of this little corner of the world. When they got to the south side he pointed to lights in the distance. "See there? Those lights are Niagara Falls, New York, approximately a hundred and sixty kilometers away."

"It's beautiful, Vince. I don't usually get to see the world like this. Thanks."

"I wanted you to see some of the more remarkable sights of Toronto. After your experiences with the less desirable elements our city has to offer, I was afraid you'd go home with a poor opinion of Canadians."

"Canadians or _you?_ "

"Pardon?"

Looking at him from the side, she raised her eyebrows. "Are you trying to change my opinion of Canadians in general, or _you_?"

He gave her a sly grin. "Both. Is it working?"

She took his hand, urging him to walk. "Yeah."

They laughed together as he slipped his arm around her waist.

 **The Next Morning**

Chuck took a sip of his coffee then scooped up a generous bite of his eggs and sausage. While he chewed, he watched Dusty watching him and Amelia. Her eyes tracked back and forth between them, a smirk on her face. Finally, he couldn't take the silent staring and knowing smile anymore. "What?"

"Nothin'." She took a drink of her orange juice, and returned the glass to the table. "Apparently, some of those ninja wannabes followed us last night. I heard the two of you kicking some _serious_ ass, so I called Vince, and we went to the CN Tower for dinner."

Chuck and Amelia's embarrassment dissolved at Dusty's revelation, and they exchanged smirks of their own. "You went on a _date_ with _Shades_? A _real_ date?"

"Yeah. Why does that surprise you?"

Amelia's smirk turned into a full-on grin. "So-oo, did he spend the night?"

"No. The wall-bangin' and screamin' comin' from your room probably creeped him out as much as it did me. We were makin' out in the front of the 'stang when we heard one last "Oh, GOD!' then dead silence. After that he said good-night, got on the Harley and rode off into the night."

 **Blitz's Apartment**

Dusty watched Amelia and Chuck work for a while then the women had one of those conversations that consisted solely of non-verbal communication. Amelia shook her head, and nodded at Chuck.

Reaching into her pocket, Dusty pulled out a fresh piece of gum, talking while unwrapping it. "Hey, Chuck-a-rooni. I'm going on a food run. There's a place on the boardwalk that's supposed to have the best burritos ever. I hear they're so _big_ it takes two days to eat 'em. Wanna ride shotgun, Spunky?"

"Can you get by without me for a while, baby?" Amelia asked Chuck.

Chuck looked up with a smile. "As long as I get a kiss before you go." Amelia put her arms around his neck. He pulled her onto his lap, and kissed her. They got lost in what they were doing, snapping back to reality when Chuck heard a bubble pop in his ear.

"Break it up you two. We gotta go." Blitz came out of the bedroom at that moment. "We're makin' this a girl's day, and takin' Blitz with us."

Blitz looked scared just for a split second, covering it quickly. "Sorry, I've got…"

"Come on. It'll be fun. No guys to get in the way, and we can get to know each other better."

"Uh, Spunky…" Chuck started but she interrupted.

"Don't worry, Mounty. We won't let anything happen to her."

"Yeah." Dusty added her voice to Amelia's making an X over her left chest. "Cross m' heart." The two women took Blitz by the hand, and they were gone.

Zack watched the door close behind the three women and looked anxious. "Chuck…"

"Don't worry, Zack. They'll be fine," he told the boy with more confidence than he felt. Zack just stood there with a thoughtful expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking about when Mom and Boone move to the Caymans. I won't see them except spring, summer, and holiday breaks. Then in a few years I'll have a double doctoral degree in theoretical physics and astrophysics, plus a Master's in quantum mechanics, and will see them even less."

He paced back and forth a few times. Apparently, he just needed to talk, so Chuck did what he was good at: he listened.

"I have all these ideas that no one else seems to be able to understand, not even my professors. The one man who I think _would_ understand I can't locate. He hasn't published in _years_. I do know he's not dead, but no one seems to know what happened to him."

Chuck listened to him ramble on about his future, grinning internally. "Would this person you're looking for happen to be Dr. Rodney McKay?"

Zack was taken aback. "You heard of him?"

Chuck resisted laughing, but not by much. He took a piece of paper from the desk, jotted something down and handed it to the boy. "You could say that. When you get to grad school, send me an email at this address."

"What for?"

He squeezed Zack's shoulder, and smiled secretively. "It's a surprise."

 **In the Car**

Dusty drove the Mustang with her usual skill and speed, which frightened Blitz more than a little though she said almost nothing during the ride. Amelia and Dusty talked about her date with Shades until Blitz said, "This isn't the way to the boardwalk."

The pop of a bubble pierced the air. "Yeah, I know. We're takin' a little side trip first." She slowed down, made a right turn then pulled to a stop near the playground area of a grade school. "Here we are! Everybody out!"

Amelia and Dusty got out and waited for Blitz to join them, but she stayed stubbornly in the back seat. "Relax, Brianna." She deliberately used Blitz's given name. "We aren't here to hurt you. We just wanna talk." She gestured in invitation, and Blitz reluctantly climbed out.

Dusty led their little group over to the swings, sat down in one, and pushed off. Amelia crossed her arms, shifted her weight from the right to the left foot, and scowled. "We know what you're up to."

"Excuse me?"

Pacing three steps one way, and the same back, Amelia revealed, "Found your travel itinerary. Two reservations on Air Atlantic for the Caymans leaving in less than a week with an open-ended return date.

"You've closed all but one of your credit cards, all your bank accounts, money markets, IRA and CDs, and transferred everything into an offshore account except for one in Zack's name. The lease on the apartment is up at the end of this month, and you've put your car in your son's name." She stopped, and confronted Blitz. "You're going let Chuck and I take the fall for this whole operation." Blitz just looked at the ground. "Can't let it happen."

The shorter woman still didn't look at them, just nodded.

Dusty kept swinging and blowing bubbles. She let the next one pop then jumped out of the swing and went to stand next to Amelia. "You need to tell him about Zack."

Blitz crossed her arms, and looked into the distance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." Amelia touched Blitz gently on the shoulder. "Brianna, Chuck thinks Zack is his son. You have to tell him he isn't."

"How do you…?"

"DNA." Amelia waved vaguely. "In my line of work, you tend to make connections." It was true. She'd contacted General Landry, and he put her in touch with a Toronto lab. "We care about Chuck, and don't want him hurt. And if you let him go on believing, he will be." Amelia put both hands on Blitz's shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "If you've _ever_ cared about him, Brianna, you won't let him find out from someone else."

She stepped back, and Amelia's hands fell away. "You're right."

The women headed for the car and Dusty was about to start it up when a thought occurred to her. "Was Shades the, uh, sperm donor?"

~~O~~

Aghast at the idea that she might've slept with Shades, Blitz blurted out, "Oh, _God_ , no. He was out of the picture for a few years starting about three months before Zack was conceived. We didn't see him again until Zack was starting school." What Blitz didn't say was that Shades told her he'd been in prison. That was his secret to tell, not hers, and she would respect his privacy. "He still disappears for a week or so every few months then he's back. Doesn't say where he's been, and we've learned not to ask."

Dusty sighed in relief. "Then who…?" She figured it out at the same time Amelia did. Dusty blew a bubble, turned, and led the way back to the car.

 **Blitz's Apartment**

Boone had gone out without saying where he was going, and Zack had been picked up by friends, leaving Chuck alone in the apartment for the first time. He took the opportunity to search Blitz's and Boone's computers looking for something that would get him the name of her client.

A few minutes into his search, he came up with a file labeled "Sudoku" which was very odd because Blitz had always thought them a waste of time. He clicked on the heavily encrypted file, gaining access in less than five minutes. What he found wasn't puzzles, but gigabytes of information on "The Company." It was obvious that they were her clients, though it wasn't clear if that was the actual name, or just what Blitz called them. At least it was a starting point.

From the amount of information he'd located, it appeared that not only had she done work for them many times in the past but she'd gathered enough info on them to engage in a little blackmail.

The Company wasn't her only client. He downloaded information off-site on every job she'd done for the last decade. More than enough to put her and Boone away for a few years. Zack was a good kid and he didn't want to put the boy's mother in jail, but he had a mission to complete.

Once the download was complete, he removed any evidence that he'd been there. Pulling out his phone, he sent an email to General Landry to update him on the mission. He'd already downloaded the new information, and would give it to Blitz tonight so there wasn't much to do until the women got back with the food.

While in her computer, he located the reservations she had for the Caymans. She'd always talked about wanting to visit, maybe even live there. Too bad she'd go to prison without ever having set foot on their white beaches.

Picking up the remote, he made himself comfortable on the sofa and began surfing. He'd just settled on the episode "Amazon Women in the Mood" of _Futurama_ when he heard a knock on the door. He muted the sound, and went to open the door. "It's about time you got back. I'm starving."

Standing in the doorway was a well-dressed man holding a gun pointed at Chuck's mid-section. The man gestured, and Chuck back into the apartment where he was directed to sit on the sofa, keeping his hands in sight.

The man didn't waste time with small talk. "Why'd you have to come back, Sneaker? Why couldn't you have stayed away?" The last was said with such intensity that Chuck was taken aback. The man didn't look _or_ sound familiar. "Of all people, you were the only one I thought might get cold feet about the operation."

"Who are you?"

The man gestured angrily. "Don't play games with me, Campbell! I _taught_ it to you. I taught you _lots_ of things. You were so unbelievably naïve when Blitz brought you to me, and _I_ turned you into one of the best bike thieves in all of Ontario."

Chuck finally figured out the man's identity. When they'd known each other, he had long hair, glasses, and weighed close to a hundred and thirty-five kilos. Now he weighted no more than ninety. "Mitch." Chuck relaxed, rested his right ankle on his left knee, and grinned. "You look great, by the way. The Glock pointed at my head is new. I'd get rid of it if I were you. It kinda ruins the whole upscale look you've got going."

Mitch took a seat in the recliner, the weapon's muzzle unwavering.

In a pleasant tone, Chuck asked, "You still drink Molson, right?" He made to stand, but was gestured back.

"No more small talk, Campbell. How much?"

Genuinely confused, Chuck muttered, "Excuse me?"

"How much do you want to keep your mouth shut about my involvement with our former operation?"

Chuck shifted on the sofa thinking furiously. Why would Mitch think he was here to blackmail him? "Let's talk exact figures later. What I want from you at the moment is information. Who told you I was back? Blitz? Boone? Shades?"

Mitch waved his free hand. "Haven't spoken to them in years."

"Then who…"

His fingers flexed on the weapon, and there was a light sheen of perspiration on his face even though the room was cool. "Are you going to sit there and tell me you don't know I'm the president of a government operated corporation, or that I have strong political aspirations?"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm telling you. I didn't even recognize you. Hell, I never even knew your real _name._ All anyone ever called you back in the day was Mitch." The breath Chuck didn't realize he was holding huffed out when his visitor finally lowered the weapon, put the safety on, and slipped it inside his jacket.

"And I _hated_ it. Because I was overweight, and fair-skinned, everyone said I looked like the Michelin Man."

" _I_ wasn't one of those people."

Mitch was the same age as Chuck, but looked much older. He pushed his hands through his short hair that was now mostly gray. "How about that beer now? I haven't had a Molson in years. The wife won't let me. Mostly drink expensive wine these days. Nothing but the best for this up and coming politico."

"While I get the beer, explain why you're trying to have me killed."

The man seemed genuinely shocked. "Those _idiots!_ All they were supposed to do was find out how much you wanted to leave Ontario, and not come back. If my former occupation became public knowledge, then my chances of becoming a Provincial Minister would fall to less than zero."

"The thugs you hired had silenced weapons. They shot at me _and_ my girlfriend, so you can understand that I'm not exactly happy to see you, _or_ take your word that you had benign intentions." Chuck handed him a bottle, and resumed his seat. "You still haven't told me how you knew I was here. Not just here in Toronto. I mean _here_ in Blitz's apartment."

"I have my fingers in large number of pies. Except for you and Shades, I've kept track of the old gang, just in case any of them started getting ideas. One finger is on someone from the old days who works in IT for the Department of Records. She saw where you hacked in and looked at the birth record for Zackary John Parrish."

Chuck sipped his beer nonchalantly. "Wasn't me."

"Whoever it was used the coding you created when you were hacking into corporations for fun. Besides, who else would want to view the birth certificate for the child of his former lover to see if he was the father?"

Chuck had an idea who'd hacked the birth records, and smiled inwardly that Amelia cared so much. But before he could say so, they heard female voices coming down the stairs.

The front door opened, and the women came in laughing, and talking a mile a minute. They were carrying bags with the name of a popular casual restaurant on the boardwalk, and from the grocers down the street. They stopped talking when they saw Mitch, who had come to his feet. All three women stared suspiciously at Mitch.

"Brianna, this is Mr. Benjamin." From the look on Blitz's face, she had no idea who the man was any more than Chuck had.

Mitch extended his hand, showing off his best politician's smile. "Ma'am."

"I accidentally dinged Mr. Benjamin's car door the other day, and gave your address as a contact. He was just leaving." Chuck put a slight emphasis on the last, stuck out his hand, and gave Mitch a pointed stare.

As an aspiring politician and former leader of a ring of criminals, Mitch was used to falsehoods, and was quick on the uptake. "There wasn't enough damage to warrant contacting my insurance company, but thank you for seeing me, Mr. Campbell."

"Not at all. I try to take responsibility for my actions. A pity others don't."

With an uncomfortable laugh, Mitch bid the ladies good night. Amelia closed the door behind him, and gave Chuck a questioning stare over Blitz's head. Nodding toward the kitchen, they moved in that direction, Dusty tagging along. He gave them a quick rundown of the conversation he had with Mitch while they got out plates, forks, knives and glasses.

Blitz's voice floated in to them. "What are you three doing in there?"

Chuck opened drinks for each of them as he answered. "Dusty's ticked off. She thinks Shades is gonna be pissed because he entrusted his precious Mustang to her care, and I took it out without permission."

Dusty blew a bubble, and sucked it back in while giving Chuck an unblinking stare. "Yeah, that's it." Her tone said they would talk more when they got back to the motel.

"And I have some good news, Blitz." He passed her a flash drive. "We'll hang around while you pass it off to your client, just in case. This information was a lot harder to get, and seems to be more up-to-date than the other, so there shouldn't be a problem."

The door opened again and Boone entered at that moment. "Sorry I'm late." He saw the food spread out on the table, and rubbed his hands together with delight. "Oh, great! Burritos. What're we celebrating?"

~~O~~

Boone slipped under the covers, and pulled Blitz close. They'd finally gotten confirmation from the clients that the new info was acceptable, so Sneaker, Spunky, and their pet wolf had gone back to their motel. He was just a little pissed that they wouldn't say where they were staying. It's not like _he_ was the one who'd put the hit out on them. Not that it hadn't crossed his mind.

"Just think, in a few days we'll be on the beach at Peace Bay, sipping Margaritas, and the only decision we'll have to make is what part of the beach to sit on each day."

"I know. Zack will visit when the university closes for Spring break in March."

"Cool." Blitz was quiet for a few minutes, and he thought she'd gone to sleep, then she rolled over to face the wall with her back to him. "So, tell me. What did Mitch have to say for himself after all these years?"

"Mitch was here?" Blitz rolled over, going up on one elbow. "When?"

~~O~~

"Saw him coming out of the building. Got into his Beamer, and took off like a bat out of hell when I called his name."

Now Blitz was confused. "There was a Mr. Benjamin here talking to Sneaker when we got back, but no one else."

"Yeah. That was him. Michael Benjamin, Mitch's real name. Lost a _lot_ of weight. I hear he's the president of some government-run company, and is being groomed to run for Provincial Minister of Ontario."

"Shit! They're gonna turn us in!"

"Who?"

"Sneaker, and his pack of she-wolves!" She rolled out of bed, went to the closet, and pulled out a set of luggage. "We have to go. Now. I'll change our plane reservations, and we'll leave tomorrow instead of at the end of the week."

"Sneaker wouldn't turn us in. He's just as deep in this as we are." He pulled out his own luggage, throwing clothes into it.

"After what we did to him all those years ago, wouldn't _you?_ "

"Fine. Got a place we can stay until it's time for our flight?"

"I've got the perfect place." She told him where they would be hiding, and he agreed. No one would ever think to look for them there.

The last thing Blitz did was leave a note for Zack.

 **Sle** **ep E** **asy** **Motel**

"What's she gonna say when she finds out the new info's obsolete too?" Amelia asked as she and Chuck were getting ready for bed. She grabbed her pajamas, and headed for the bathroom.

"It isn't." He said more, but his voice was muffled as he pulled his shirt off over his head.

"What?"

"I said it's _not_ obsolete. The tech we gave them is current or close to it. The General, and I talked at length, and I finally convinced him that the only way to catch Blitz's clients was to give them what they want." He took her in his arms, and stopped her protest with a long hot kiss. She dropped her pajamas, and wrapped both arms around his neck. Breaking the kiss, she gave him a wicked smile, pulling him into the bathroom with her. The door closed firmly behind them, and the water came on immediately after.

 **Later That Night**

Chuck groaned as he reached for the phone. "Yeah?"

" _Chuck? It's Zack! Chuck, are you there?_ "

"Yeah, buddy, I'm here. What's up?" He turned on the light, blinking in the brightness as he sat on the side of the bed. The cool air hit his bare feet, and he rubbed them together to generate warmth.

" _Mom and Boone are gone_."

"Gone where?"

" _They're just gone. All their clothes and personal stuff._ "

The boy was on the verge of panic, so Chuck kept his voice calm and soothing. "Okay, buddy. Stay put, and try to stay calm. We'll be there in a few minutes. Have you called anyone else?"

" _Shades. I left a message_."

Chuck reached out to shake Amelia awake, but it wasn't necessary. She was already up, getting dressed. "That's fine. We'll be there in a few minutes. And Zack?"

" _Yeah?_ "

"Try not to worry. We'll figure it out."

Zack exhaled loudly. " _Thanks_."

Chuck thumbed the end key as he reached for the clothes Amelia had tossed on the bed. He heard water running then Amelia came out of the bathroom. "Want me to call Dusty?"

There was a knock on the door, and they both smiled. Sure enough, the dark-haired woman was dressed, and ready to go. She jingled the car keys to hurry them up. A few minutes later they were on the road.

 **TBC**


	10. Chuck and Company to the Rescue

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Chuck and Company to the Rescue**

 **Blitz's Apartment**

Chuck sat at one end of the sofa while Zack sat at the other with Dusty in between providing support. Blitz and Boone had taken their computers, clothes, personal items, and all the photos that had been on the walls, and shelves. "How long have they been gone?"

"Dunno. I got home late, and went straight to bed. I thought they were asleep, but they could have been gone already."

Chuck got up to pace, rubbing a hand through his hair. Amelia stopped him with a touch on his arm and pressed a cup of coffee into his hands. He smiled his thanks, gave her hand a squeeze then turned back to Zack. "Where would your mom have left a note?"

"Um, taped to the front of the TV, stuck to the front of the 'fridge, on the bathroom mirror, _inside_ the 'fridge…" While he listed the places his mother usually left notes Amelia and Dusty checked but found nothing.

They heard the refrigerator door open then Dusty's muffled voice came to them. "Nothin' inside and all that's on the front is one of those number puzzle things."

"Sudoku?"

"Whatever. All I know is it wasn't here before." She handed the paper to Chuck who passed it to Zack. She resumed her seat next to him, with an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, Zack-ster. Chuck'll figure it out."

Zack nodded. "Sorry about before. I'm not usually such a drama king. And it's not that I'm a mama's boy or anything, but it was scary waking up to find them gone."

"Not a problem, buddy. You can call us any time. We'll get here as quickly as we can."

Zack smiled and looked down at the sheet of paper in his hand. Without thinking he reached for a pen and began filling in the spaces just for something to do. Chuck noted absently that Zack was left-handed, same as Boone.

Taking out one of the laptops they brought with them, Chuck booted up, and went to work. Amelia came to watch over his shoulder as he tapped into the GPS system for Blitz and Boone's phones, and computers. As he suspected, the GPS had been disabled on all their mobile devices.

As a last resort, he ran a check for recent charges to her credit cards, and that is how he found out that she'd cancelled all but one, a MasterCard that hadn't been used in several days. On a hunch, he hacked into her bank accounts, and again found only one still open. "Sorry, Zack. No luck." He turned to glare at Dusty when she popped a bubble next to his ear.

"Mom doesn't like being watched, so she disables the GPS."

Amelia exchanged sheepish looks with her companions. Chuck smiled and shrugged. "We'll stay the rest of the night, if you want. Wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now."

"Sure." He yawned, stretched, and went into his room.

~~O~~

Dusty groaned, and opened her eyes. She'd fallen asleep on the sofa, and someone had thrown a blanket over her. Chuck and Amelia were cuddled together in the recliner, also covered with a blanket. She went to the kitchen to start the coffee then went into the bathroom. By the time she emerged, Chuck and Amelia were beginning to stir.

She went down the hall to knock on Zack's door. "Yo! Zack! Up and at 'em. Prepare to get your butt whooped at Smash Brothers again." There was no answer, so she knocked again, with the same result. "You better be dressed, Zack, 'cause I'm coming in." She put her hand over her eyes, and pushed the door open.

~~O~~

Chuck heard Dusty moving around, and a short time later the smell of coffee roused him. Not long after that Amelia began to stir against his side, one leg coming up and over both of his. Her hand on his chest began to flex, the short nails digging in just a little. She moaned and muttered something unintelligible.

He was just about to doze off again when a hand gripped his shoulder shaking him hard. "Chuck! Chuck, wake up! Zack's gone!"

"What?" By now Amelia was awake too. They let down the foot of the recliner, and got to their feet.

"He didn't answer when I knocked so I went in, and he's _gone!_ " She pushed a sheet of paper at him. "This was on his pillow."

" _Chuck, Amelia and Dusty,_

 _Sorry to run out on you. I know where Mom and Boone are. They left a clue, and I'm following it._

 _Thanks for everything, and tell Dusty she owes me a rematch._

 _Zack"_

"A clue? What's he talkin' about?"

~~O~~

Chuck stared at the paper without really seeing it, the wheels in his head spinning faster and faster. His face brightened, and he snapped his fingers several times fast. Amelia grinned. _He's been spending too much time with Dr. McKay!_

"Where's that Sudoku puzzle? The one from last night."

Dusty went to Zack's room while Amelia searched the living room, and Chuck checked the kitchen.

"Here it is!" Dusty handed him the now filled in puzzle. "How's it gonna help us?"

Chuck took the page from her, and walked around, staring at it. "Don't know yet." He thanked Amelia absently when she passed him another coffee, and set a plate on the table with leftovers from the previous night's burrito bash. He sat down, still staring at the puzzle, forehead creased in thought while he booted up the computer.

Dusty leaned close to Amelia and whispered, "What's he doin'?"

Amelia shushed her. "Sh! Genius at work."

 **Orthogon Industries**

 **A Multi-National Tech Firm**

"Have you examined the data?" The voice coming out of the shadows was male, with an American accent.

"Yes, sir. It's viable. We'll go over it down to the last byte, and get back to you with specifics, but I can safely say that we've hit the jackpot." The man in the white lab coat heard the murmur of other voices, male and female, in a variety of accents. He tapped at the tablet in his hand, his voice trailing off.

"What is it?" This from a woman, maybe Russian.

"Well, if I'm right, and you can take _that_ to the bank, this data contains information on devices now in use by the military that were reverse engineered from…" he paused again, as if he didn't completely trust his conclusions, "… _alien_ technology."

Another male voice questioned, "Alien?"

"Of extraterrestrial origin. Yes, sir."

 **At the Safe House**

"What's wrong?" Boone massaged Blitz's shoulders. She was staring out the window at nothing, literally. All that could be seen from the windows on this side of the building was an alley and a rusty dumpster.

"I'm worried about Zack."

He slipped his arms down around her waist, and pulled her close. "He'll figure it out."

"I know, but what if Sneaker follows him? It's nota coincidence that Mitch showed up while he was here. And I do _not_ wanna go to prison." She turned to face him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Same here. It's a good thing you thought to get us new identities. Where did you get the names John Robie and Frances Stevens?"

 **Blitz's Apartment**

Chuck ended his call to General Landry, and sat there staring into space. Now that he knew the name of Blitz's employers, Landry was sending Mitchell and Cadman to help bring in Orthogon Industries' senior officers. It would take a few hours for them to get here. If he told his companions he knew where his ex and her boyfriend were hiding, they'd want to go there now, so he kept quiet, and continued to work.

It would take a little time to make the arrangements to stop Blitz and Boone from leaving the country. The work wouldn't take long, but he wanted to make sure they didn't find out until it was too late. When he was done, he opened the folder with the information he'd collected on Zack.

More than a few times, Chuck wondered about the possibility that he might be the boy's father. He liked the idea of being a parent, though he did have some doubts as to his abilities. He hadn't interacted with kids much once he'd gotten into high school. Most of his time there had been spent studying. He was also president of the electronics club, the math club, and the chess club.

 _Now, if there's a bigger nerd in here, please point him out._

He laughed to himself at the quote from the movie _The Day After Tomorrow_. That boy could have been him.

In high school, he'd been a bit shy, and understandably flattered when one of the prettiest girls in his class had shown an interest. At the end of their first day, Chuck had been completely smitten Brianna Krieger. He'd even dropped out of the clubs in order to spend more time with her.

And that was the beginning of his descent into a life of crime. He'd resisted at first, but he wanted to make her happy, so he did anything and everything she'd asked of him. He even applied to the same college so they wouldn't have to be apart. He'd already been accepted at MIT, but turned it down to go to Ryerson with the woman who said she loved him.

Their life in Toronto was going as well as could be expected until Blitz lost her scholarship. Grants didn't help much, so they were forced to take on jobs where they were paid cash. That's how they ended up working for Mitch, where he learned the business of bike thievery, and had been good at it. _Extraordinarily good._

He brought in more revenue for his team than any other. At first, he basked in Blitz's praise. But the closer they got to graduation, the more restless he became. Day by day, the pride turned to shame for the things he'd had to do to make money for them to live on, and to help pay for her education. Not that they'd lived like royalty. They'd shared a tiny three-bedroom apartment with others, and still barely got by.

A week after they'd graduated from university, it all came crashing down. While Blitz was at a job interview, her third that week, he'd packed up his belongings, and returned to Calgary. There, he'd been offered a position as the head of the IT department of a large corporation. It was one of the companies he'd hacked into just for the fun of it. Their security had been ancient. He worked long hours to rebuild their defenses from the ground up making it one of the most secure companies in North America. That had been simple compared to sleeping at night.

Chuck was certain that someone would suddenly figure out that he'd been the one to breech their security, precipitating the restructuring of their IT department. Being fired, arrested, and convicted, he could've handled without blinking an eye. But the embarrassment his family would have endured, well it made him nauseous just to think the disappointment on the faces of his mother, sisters, and brother.

Dad would've just looked at him, shaken his head, and walked away. The silence he'd endured from his father when he misbehaved was worse than if he'd yelled. And being the youngest he was constantly pushing the envelope, breaking rules left, right and center in order to get his share of attention in a family of seven.

But Dad was gone, and so was his unique form of punishment. So, as a way of punishing himself, Chuck had joined the RCAF.

The joke, however, was on him because he found that he was actually quite suited to military life. As his squad mates were fond of saying, there was always someone higher up where you could pass the buck. However, he was done with others taking the fall for his mistakes. To that end he did everything he was told to do by his superior officers, kept to himself for the most part, stayed out of the way as much as possible, worked quietly in the background, and tried not to ripple the pond.

That's why he'd been more than a little surprised when he'd been offered a post in Antarctica working with Doctors Jackson, McKay and Grodin studying alien technology. The surprise had doubled Elizabeth Weir requested that he be join the expedition to Atlantis. She'd actually come to his quarters to make her plea, and that as much as anything else was why he'd agreed. If _she_ had faith in him, then he must be doing something right.

It was there, in a galaxy three million light years from Earth, that he'd finally found a place where he felt like he belonged. He made friends, respected his superiors, was respected and trusted in return, and was happier than he'd ever expected to be. Until Blitz's email.

Chuck sighed, and brought his attention back to the job he was here to do: put Blitz and Boone in prison. A few minutes later his phone rang. When he saw the caller ID, he stifled a groan. It was time.

~~O~~

Dusty and Amelia were playing one of Zack's games waiting for Chuck to have an epiphany or get done doing whatever it was that he was doing. Their patience was rewarded when he headed for the door with his laptop case. The women shut down the game, grabbed their jackets, and followed.

Without being asked, Dusty gave him the keys to the Mustang. They didn't say a word as Chuck drove calmly through the streets of Toronto.

Finally, Dusty couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Where're we goin'?"

"The factory district."

"Why?"

He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, and back to the road. "Because that's where Blitz, Boone, and Zack are."

The women exchanged confused glances. "How do you know?"

"The puzzle."

"The puzzle?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

~~O~~

The women waited, but he didn't elaborate, so Amelia ventured, "Explain your thought processes to those of us who aren't as quick on the uptake."

Chuck braked smoothly to a stop at the red light, and glanced over at Amelia in the passenger seat. "The puzzle is the answer."

Dusty blew a bubble. "So, what's the answer?"

"It told me not only know _where_ they're hiding, but also know the name of the company that hired them."

"Don't make me _hurt you_ , Chuck-meister!"

The light changed, and he pulled forward again. "Sudoku means 'single number.' The objective of the puzzle is to fill a 9×9 grid with digits so that each column, each row, and each of the nine 3×3 sub-grids that comprise the grid or boxes contain all of the digits from one to nine."

"So?"

"So, it's also known as a Latin square." From the corner of his eye he could see Amelia had caught on, but continued his explanation for Dusty's benefit. "A Latin square is a table filled with different symbols in such a way that each symbol occurs exactly once in each row and exactly once in each column. It is also called an Orthogonal Array Representation." He paused to let Amelia draw Dusty a picture…literally. "Her client is Orthogon Industries. OI is the parent company of an abandoned plant in the factory district."

"How'd ya know that's where they're hidin' instead of some other factory that's owned by the same company?"

He gave the women a sly smile, and pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. Amelia unfolded it to see the puzzle they'd just been discussing. Someone had drawn a picture within the puzzle using the placement of the numbers. It was a picture of a dancing hot dog with a top hat and cane, the logo of Big Dog Sausage Company.

Dusty blew a bubble, let it pop. "Coolness."

 **Big Dog Sausage Company**

 **Abandoned Factory**

Chuck parked the Mustang where it couldn't be seen by anyone watching from the building. Amelia opened the door to get out but he put a hand out to stop her. "Please wait here."

"Why?"

"I need to get Zack out before we take them down, or he could end up in jail, too." The women exchanged a concerned glance but he beat them to the punch. "He's just a boy. I'd hate for his life to be ruined by something his mother did. He'd probably rise above it eventually, but I'd rather he didn't have to."

"What if he won't leave?"

Chuck got out, and grabbed the laptop case from the back seat. "Haven't thought that far ahead. Just have to wing it." He passed the case to Amelia. "I need you to do something for me. On my signal, I need you to…" He outlined his plan while he took items from the zippered compartments of the laptop case, and shoved them in various pockets.

While he did that, other vehicles arrived, police, and unmarked government cars. Chuck went to the trunk, passed Dusty a radio, and pushed the other one in yet another pocket. He left the women alone while he had a whispered conversation with several dour men and women in suits. They didn't look happy, but finally nodded in agreement. Before he left, one of the men passed him something. He looked at it with distaste, and reluctantly clipped it to his waist.

~~O~~

Chuck crept silently along the side of the brick building until he came to a locked door. It seemed the best place to slip in unnoticed. The building was old so there were no keypads or card readers. All he needed was a key, or a reasonable facsimile. He crouched beside the door, and pulled a small case from his back pocket. He opened the case, and chose two tools slim tools. Carefully inserting both into the lock, he gently probed until he heard a click. _Maybe I should add lock picking to my list of skills on my résumé_.

He took out a life signs detector. It came on automatically, and he silently thanked God that the ATA gene therapy had worked for him. He swept it around the edges of the door checking for booby traps. Finding none, he slowly turned the knob until the door opened just far enough to enter. Knowing that Amelia, Dusty, the CSIS agents, and police were watching he stuck his hand out, flashed them a thumbs up, and shut the door with a near-inaudible click.

Chuck heard voices, and made his way in that direction. They'd taken up residence in one of the offices. Moving from one hulking piece of equipment to another, he crept around to the hallway that went to the bathrooms. Zack was just coming out of the men's room. They stared at each other with wide eyes for a moment then Chuck raised his finger to his lips for quiet.

Taking Zack by the arm, he dragged him into a supply closet filled with rusted metal shelves, a few empty cardboard boxes in various sizes, trash, empty cleaning supply bottles, spider webs, and dust. Lots of dust. Leaning in one corner was a string mop that was stiff and brown with age. A rustling sound told them there were probably more than a few rats lurking in the dark. The air was dank and stale. In fact, the whole building smelled of disuse, rotten meat, and rat droppings.

"What are you doing here, Chuck?" Zack whispered. "You're gonna put Mom and Boone in jail."

"Yes." The boy looked skeptical. "Please trust me, Zack. I won't let your mom be hurt if I can avoid it, and if you don't leave _now_ , you could end up in prison, too."

Zack's brown eyes that were so like his yet not lit up with understanding. "You're a _cop_ , aren't you? You're all undercover."

Chuck sighed, and pushed a hand through his hair. "Something like that. Look, Zack, the truth is…"

The door to the store room opened, and Boone stuck his head in. "Who're you talking to?" Chuck had jumped inside a large box and ducked down out of sight. He felt a spider crawling on his hand, and it took all his will power not to scream like a little girl.

"No one. Why?"

"Must be my imagination. This place is spooky, even in daylight." He shuddered dramatically. "Your mom's looking for you."

"Okay. Be right there."

The door closed, and Chuck popped up out of the box, brushing frantically at his skin, clothing and hair. "I _hate_ spiders!"

Zack shivered in revulsion too then pointed in the direction Boone had just gone, shaking his head. "How could that boneheadbe my biological father? I must've gotten recessive genes." At Chuck's shocked expression he elaborated. "Mom told me the other day." He shrugged, and smiled shyly. "I was sorta hopin' _you_ were my dad."

Chuck matched his smile. "Me too." He hooked an arm around the boy's neck and pulled him close. "Doesn't mean we can't be friends. Now get your stuff, and get out. Go!" Zack gave him one last nod, and hurried out.

~~O~~

Dusty watched Chuck through binoculars while chewing her gum lazily. She blew a bubble, let it pp, and sucked it in. "What if Zack won't listen to him?"

"Chuck's pretty persuasive."

Dusty snorted. "Yeah. He convinced you to do the nasty with him."

Amelia looked away with a grin. "It was _my_ idea."

"Oh? Go get 'em, Spunky!" When Amelia didn't respond Dusty lowered the binoculars, and looked at her. "What's wrong? I know the sex is good. In fact, _everyone_ knows the sex is good."

"It's just that we're friends, _and_ we work together."

"So, keep it on the down-low." Again, Amelia didn't respond.

"That might be doable." Amelia smiled dreamily. "Chuck has the most amazing hand-eye co-ordination." She saw Zack sneaking out the door Chuck had gone in. Dusty leaned out the window, and whistled.

~~O~~

Waiting for Zack to leave, Chuck inched down the hall toward the office where he could hear Blitz and Boone talking. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but it didn't matter. If it all went according to plan, they'd be arrested soon, and this would all be over. He and Amelia would return to Atlantis, and their lives would go back to normal.

Thoughts of the new relationship they had settled in his brain and refused to be dislodged, causing his body to react in typical fashion. He shifted to ease the tightness in the front of his jeans, but it didn't help, so he did his best to ignore it. He ducked behind a machine whose function was a mystery when the office door opened, and Zack stepped out.

Blitz followed, one hand on the doorknob. "Where are you going?"

The boy stood there with his hands in his pockets. "To the store on the corner. Back in a few."

"Okay. Be careful. And if you see anyone suspicious hanging around, don't come back. Find a place to hide, and call me at the number I gave you."

"Will do. Mom?"

"What, sweetie?"

He paused, then said, "I love you."

She smiled, and reached up to brush the hair from his forehead. "I love you, too, honey. Now go. And come right back."

He waited for his mother to go into the office and close the door to grab his black backpack leaning against the wall. When he got out of sight of the office, he ran for the exit Chuck told him to use. As soon as he stepped out the door he heard a shrill whistle, and headed for the Mustang.

Dusty leaned out the window. "Hey, Zack-ster. You talked to Chuck?"

"Yeah." He looked anxious. "This really _sucks!_ Mom and Boone are gonna be in jail in a few minutes, and I'll be on my own."

"You won't be alone, Zack." Amelia squeezed his knee in comfort. "You can always count on us if you need anything. Even if it's just someone to talk to. Shades will look out for you, too."

The boy shrugged, and looked down at his lap. "Doesn't make it any easier."

 **TBC**


	11. You Just Got Chucked

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 10**

 **You Just Got Chucked**

Boone watched while Blitz paced back and forth after Zack disappeared into the darkness. She'd been restless and antsy since they'd left the apartment. When they'd packed up to leave she wanted to wait for Zack, but was afraid the police would arrive before the boy did, so she left him a clue to find her. He arrived just before sunrise.

Blitz stopped in front of him, nervously rubbing her hands together. "Boone, I have something I need to tell you about Zack. You see he's…"

"I'm afraid your trip to the Caymans will have to be postponed for a few years." The blonde woman spun around to see Chuck standing in the doorway.

"Chuck! How did you find us?"

He smiled sardonically. "Wasn't called Sneaker for nothing." The smile faded and he stood up straight. "I'm here to arrest you for crimes committed against an international government agency."

"What?!" Boone came to his feet in disbelief. "All we did was hack into the database of a company…"

"The company you hacked has contracts with the more than just the Canadian and United States governments. That led you to a multi-national combined government and civilian organization. It is that agency you asked for my assistance to break into, and steal top secret classified information."

"But if we had _known_ …" Boone interjected.

Chuck stopped him with a sharp angry gesture and allowed his inherent well-mannered tendencies to take a break. "Do you _have_ to be an idiot _all the time_ , Boone? Couldn't you have taken just _one day_ off?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"I mean you weren't _supposed_ to know. _That's_ what _classified_ means! Ignorance of the law is no excuse. However, in your case, ignorance is the _only_ excuse." He looked over at Blitz. "But you… _you_ are smarter than this. How could you have gotten mixed up in something like this and gotten your _son_ involved?"

"But he doesn't…"

"Zack knew what you were doing the entire time. He's _always_ known!" Chuck waited while she absorbed that information. "He's safe now, and I'll make sure he stays that way while you and your partner in crime pay your debt to society." He stood back, and gestured them forward. "Come on. It's time to go."

Blitz hung her head as if she'd given up, but when she passed Chuck she suddenly turned and pushed him into Boone. Chuck regained his balance, but Boone had both arms around him trapping his arms at his sides. "Run, Bri!"

Chuck raised both arms to the side to loosen Boone's hold then bent his right arm and drove his elbow into the other man's stomach. Boone gasped and doubled over while Chuck grabbed him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back then bent him forward with an arm pressing on the back of his neck to restrict his mobility.

Boone pushed his upper body backward hard causing Chuck to stumble and release him then ran for the door. The Chuck caught up with him in the open area just outside the office, grabbing his shoulder to spin him around. Boone and Chuck were nearly equal in height though Boone outweighed him by at least fifteen kilos. Chuck had military training on his side, though he'd seldom had to use it in his position as a Senior Gate Technician.

In desperation, Boone swung left and right wildly over and over as Chuck jumped back to avoid his clumsy punches. When Boone paused to catch his breath, Chuck took advantage, and dropped into a boxing stance Amelia had taught him. Feet shoulder width with the left in front, shoulders hunched and hands up to protect his face. He popped the other man in the face repeatedly snapping his head back. When he stepped back and turned to position himself for a roundhouse kick Boone saw his opportunity. He gave Chuck a push, forcing him to keep turning.

Chuck used his momentum to come around to get Boone on the back with a forearm strike. Boone managed to roll around his strike, grabbed his wrist, spun and released Chuck so he slammed into the wall with stunning force. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor shaking his head to clear it. As he was about to get to his feet again he looked up to see Boone standing over him with a battered box that said "Sweet Gut All Natural Hot Dog and Sausage Casings" on the side in faded red lettering. He was able to get his arms up just in time to protect his head, the box burst and showered him with what looked like dried up used condoms. He brushed the casings away with a shiver.

Rolling to his feet, Chuck grabbed Boone by the shirt front. They overbalanced and fell to the floor, rolling back and forth. Boone used his greater weight to pin Chuck to the floor then started hitting him or at least tried to. Chuck's arms were up over his face for protection. Boone wasn't much of a fighter, but it still hurt.

Chuck saw a chance to hit back, and took it. He drew back one fist and popped Boone in the jaw. Boone fell to his side relieving the pressure on Chuck's stomach. Boone lay on his side panting until he saw Chuck reaching for a cardboard box. Part of the side was open and a noxious odor came out of it. Boone had just rolled to his knees preparing to stand when the box came down on his head.

Boone grunted when the box hit him then began gagging at the smell of rotten meat. The box had been filled with Bratwurst that had somehow gotten left behind when the plant closed. The meat had partially liquefied and covered Boone's head and upper torso in the gooey, gross, stinking mess.

With a sound of revulsion, Boone swung his arm as hard as he could, knocking Chuck to the side where he hit his head on the control box of one of the dormant conveyer belts. Stars exploded behind his eyes dazing him for the second time. When his ears stopped ringing all he could hear was Boone's footsteps fading in the distance.

Pressing a hand to his aching head, he was thankful it came away without blood. His other hand pulled out the radio, switched it on, and sent the signal.

~~O~~

Dusty was holding the radio given them by Chuck, her eyes catching Amelia's when they heard the double click, pause, double click of their prearranged signal. Amelia opened the laptop, hit a few keys, toggled over to another screen, and did the same. Dusty blew a bubble then both women exited the car slamming the doors.

"Hey! Where ya goin'?" Zack protested.

"We're gonna get somethin' to go. Wait here!" Amelia ordered in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Something to _go_? How can you think of _food_ at a time like this?" This last question was hurled at their retreating backs as they disappeared around the corner farthest from the police and CSIS agents stationed at the front entrance.

 **Orthogon Industries**

 **The 27** **th** **Floor of the OI Plaza Building**

Mitchell, Cadman, Special Agent Anna Cranston, three junior CSIS agents and an armed squad stepped out of a bank of elevators. Mitchell walked up to the Admin with Cadman beside him, hooked his thumbs in his belt, cocked one hip to the side, and smiled engagingly. "Hi. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell, Captain Cadman, and Special Agent Cranston. We'd like to have a few words with your board of directors."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"As a matter of fact, we do." He gestured, and the agents showed their badges, Cranston holding up a folded piece of paper with the word "Warrant" in big letters on the front.

The group started in the direction of the board room with Cadman lingering a moment longer. "You might wanna take a really long break. Oh, and maybe start looking for a new job." She followed Mitchell to a large conference room at the end of the hall.

The Admin got on the phone again making more frantic phone calls. A few minutes later there were people standing in the halls, reception area and sticking their heads out of offices whispering urgently to each other as a group of well-dressed men and women were escorted to the elevators and down to the waiting police vehicles. They were followed by the head of security and a group of his subordinates and other department heads. A white-haired man, a senior VP, was on the phone a moment later talking to OI's legal department and reading to them from the warrant Cranston had passed him just before getting in the driver's seat of the lead vehicle and roaring away.

 **Big Dog Sausage Company**

Dusty was a few feet ahead of Amelia when they reached the door Chuck had gone through. She listened and shook her head. They kept their backs to the wall, turned the corner, stopping at another door that had been propped open with a wooden pallet. Cocking her head she listened intently, nodding once. She flattened her back against the wall beside the door while Amelia hid behind a pair of rusted out trash cans. Moments later she too heard the sound of running feet.

Boone burst out the door, stumbling to a stop when Dusty casually remarked, "Boone, buddy, where ya goin'? The party's just about to start, and you and Blitz are the guests of dishonor." When she got close, she gagged and waved a hand in front of her face. "And what the hell's that smell?"

The man gasped, took two steps back, and turned to run only to come face to face with Amelia. "He's not goin' anywhere except to jail." She made a sound of revulsion, and waved her hand in front of her face, nose wrinkled in disgust. "But first, he gets a shower." She reached for the hose attached to the faucet next to the trash cans. There was a muddy area just below it so she knew the water hadn't been turned off. Twisting the handle, she was rewarded with a stream of dark brown water. When she moved toward him Boone took a step back only to stumble forward when Dusty gave him a shove.

Amelia purposely squirted water in Boone's face then ran the stream over his head, shoulders, and chest. Dusty spun him around, and she doused his back. He sputtered incomprehensibly, except for, " _God_ that's c-c-cold!"

When the bits of rotten meat and goo had been washed away as much as possible, and the smell was bearable, Amelia turned the water off, and dropped the hose. She turned around just in time to see Boone once again start to run. He only got a few feet before Dusty said in a dangerous tone, "Do _not_ make us chase you, Boone These are _not_ my runnin' shoes." She looked down at her sneakers. "Okay, so they _are_ my runnin' shoes. I still don't wanna chase you."

"I just washed my hair and don't wanna get all sweaty," Amelia added.

He turned back to them with a look of defeat, saying nothing as they led him toward the waiting agents. Introductions were made and Special Agent Boucher motioned for one of his subordinates to take charge of Boone.

Dusty felt the need to say something more. She leaned casually on the door of the police cruiser in which Boone had been placed. "Ya know, Zack's a great kid. Fun to be with, smart as all get-out. How could someone as stupid and as big a pain in the ass as _you_ help make someone like that?"

"Whatare you talking about?" He was still blinking water out of his eyes as it ran out of his long hair.

Amelia and Dusty exchanged confused stares. "Zack. Seventeen, six feet, big brown eyes, dimples, likes pizza and those super-sized burritos, video games, and Vin Diesel movies."

Boone snorted in frustration and anger. "What are-are you saying he's my _son_?"

Dusty blew a bubble and let it pop. "Uh-oh. Cat's outta the bag now. We thought Blitz woulda told you by now." She shrugged. "Guess the cat's outta the bag now. Congratulations, Boone. It's a boy."

Amelia grinned as they headed for the side entrance again. " _He_ sure is a waste of two billion years of evolution."

~~O~~

After escorting Boone to the CSIS agents, Amelia and Dusty went back to the side door and slipped inside. A few minutes later they caught up with Chuck. He was on his feet, bent over slightly and holding his right side. At the looks of concern from his friends he indicated that he was fine. Using hand signals, he let them know that Blitz had gotten away and in which direction she'd gone. They moved out with him in the lead.

Chuck put his hand on the Taser device that Boucher had given him. He'd have a bruise where it jammed him in the ribs during his fight with Boone, and had a sore spot where he hit his head, but other than that he was uninjured. He put a hand up, and the trio came to a halt. Dusty cocked her head to the side listening. She pointed with her chin, and they hurried in the indicated direction.

Now he could hear what Dusty's superior hearing had picked up. The sound of running was just ahead and to the left. It stopped as they came to a three-way junction. Again, Dusty listened, shrugging to let him know she couldn't hear anything. He nodded, sending Dusty to the right, and Amelia up the middle while he took the left.

~~O~~

The man on the motorcycle pulled up to the factory entrance, shut the bike down, and used his heel to lower the kickstand. Pulling his helmet off he dismounted, laid the helmet on the seat, and sauntered up to Boucher with his left hand holding out his ID. Unlike the other agents in their conservative suits and subtle ties he was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt that fit him like a second skin, and boots.

Many people were disconcerted when they spoke to him because most of the time they couldn't see his eyes through the dark sunglasses. Boucher had known him for more than ten years, and knew he did it on purpose. Then again, actually seeing his eyes was almost worse because looking into them was like falling into a bottomless pit.

They spoke for a few minutes, the man pulled out his weapon, checked it, shoved it into the back waistband of his pants, and headed for the side door. Once inside, he removed the glasses, and cocked his head to one side. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of footsteps. Three, no, four sets. One set was lighter and quicker than the others, and headed for the loading dock. Darting from one piece of dormant machinery to the other, he made his way in that direction until he saw a familiar male figure creeping quietly through the dilapidated factory equipment. With a grin, he made his way over.

~~O~~

The factory was enormous to Chuck's eyes, though it apparently hadn't been so for the owners because they'd built a much larger state-of-the-art factory in another part of town, leaving this one to rot. The least little sound echoed and resonated around the three-story ceilings, pipes and equipment making it difficult to locate the source.

He jumped when he heard the scrape of cloth on metal close by. Cautiously peeking around a support pillar to his left he came face to face with the last person he ever expected to see involved in this sort of operation. He had a cocky smile and one eyebrow lifted impudently. At that moment, Chuck had a stroke of insight. Or maybe he was having a stroke because there was no way that Shades was a cop.

Using hand signals, he communicated with Shades, shocked when the person gave the proper response. He edged close enough for them to speak in harsh whispers. "What are you doing here, Shades?" Chuck asked in a stunned voice.

"In case you haven't figured it out, Chuck, I'm undercover CSIS, and here as your back-up." He flipped off a jaunty salute. "What are your orders, suh?"

A sound nearby ended their whispered conversation. Chuck sent Shades to the left wall while he edged forward. They came to the loading dock, and Chuck crouched behind a stack of flattened cardboard boxes covered with the detritus of an unused building, the hard ridges digging into his back. Stretching his senses to their fullest, he heard the nearly inaudible sound of rubber soled shoes on the concrete floor. He unholstered the Taser holding it in both hands like a traditional handgun, counted to three then whirled out into the open, down on one knee. "Freeze!"

~~O~~

Blitz had been edging toward the door to the left of the loading dock. She stopped with her hands above her shoulders, and smiled imploringly. "Chuck, sweetheart, _please_ don't do this."

"I have to, Brianna. You broke the law."

She could see by the look on his face that no amount of pleading would work, so she played the only card she had left. "Do you really want to see the mother of your child go to prison?"

To Blitz's surprise Chuck laughed, though his aim never wavered. "You _really_ must have a low opinion of my intelligence if you thought I'd fall for _that_ line." He got to his feet, towering over her. "I did a little research while I was pretending to do your dirty work for you. Zach's birthday is in less than four months, which means that you had to have conceived within six weeks of graduation.

"At that point, we hadn't slept together for over a month. Shades was already out of the picture, and you wouldn't have touched Mitch, Smurf, Bruno, Kroft, Luciano, Hobo or Firepants with a ten-foot pole. Your ex-husband obviously wasn't the boy's father, so that leaves Boone as the guilty party." He paused for breath, though it felt more like he was doing it for dramatic effect. "How's that for deductive reasoning?"

~~O~~

She kept quiet, and that in itself told him that all of his assumptions had been correct. Then, she took another step toward the exit. "I know you still care about me, Chuck, and wouldn't want me to be hurt. Just let me go. I'll leave the country today, and never come back."

"You're right. I _do_ still care…" Chuck let Blitz think he was letting her go. She put her hands down, and turned toward the exit, stopping when he added, "…just not in the way you think.

"There are three really good reasons why I can't let you go, Brianna. One, you broke the law in a way that will probably get you sent away for a really long time." He took a few steps toward her as she continued to retreat, maintain the distance between them. "Two, I've already betrayed the trust of people who deserve my respect once. I won't do it again by letting you go."

She stared at him without blinking. For every step he took, she took two until she was within a few meters of the door. He could see intent in her eyes. Those same eyes widened with shock. She came to a halt when she saw a figure come out of the shadows.

"Shades?! Get out of here before they catch you, too!"

He shook his head sadly. "Can't do it, Blitz."

"Why?"

He took the Oakleys from where he'd hooked them over the back of his collar, slipped them on, and nodded at Chuck. "I'm on _his_ side." This statement told Chuck that Shades knew more than he'd ever imagined about him and his companions. They would definitely have to have a long talk when this mission was over.

Amelia and Dusty came out of the shadows. Chuck waited for Dusty's response to the Shades' presence, but all she did was work that piece of gum. He glanced around, but the dark-haired man had vanished.

"Chuck! She's getting away!" The door to the outside was just closing at Dusty's shouted warning. She, Chuck and Amelia ran after Blitz, seeing her turn the corner at the far end of the building. For someone barely five feet, she sure could run.

The trio followed, and caught up with her as she was nearing a white compact.

Chuck shouted, "Brianna! Stop!"

She whipped around her hair flying, and the look of a trapped animal in her eyes. " _Please_ let me go, Chuck." Tears spilled down her cheeks, finally seeing them for what they were: crocodile tears.

He watched her for a few moments then the Taser slowly dropped to his side. He slid it back into the holster, and snapped the strap. The glow of triumph shone in her eyes as she turned toward the car.

"Brianna." She kept walking. "Please _stop_!" He caught up with her in a few quick strides and grabbed her slender wrist.

She looked down at his hand then up to his face her green eyes filled with an unreadable emotion as she tried to free herself, and failed. " _Why_ are you doing this, Chuck?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. You used to know what that meant."

Her sharp bark of a laugh startled him. "You were so easy to manipulate, Chuck. In high school, and again at university."

"What do you mean?"

"I lost my scholarship due to misuse of funds. Sleeping with you and telling you I loved you was the only way to get your help so I could stay."

The vindictiveness in her voice had its intended effect. His flingers went lax, and she pulled her arm free. At the same time, rage like Chuck had never felt before surged through his mind and body. Without thinking, he raise his hand to hit her. Fortunately, reason asserted itself. He curled his hand into a loose fist, and let it fall to his side.

A smirk twisted lips he once thought as bewitching. "I _knew_ you were a coward. You'd never hit a woman."

He took several deep breaths to calm his mind, and the fury dissipated, replaced by sadness. "You're right. I'd never hit a woman… but _she_ would."

Blitz gasped as Amelia stepped between her and Chuck, leaning into the punch. Blitz's head snapped back, and she dropped to the ground, moaning. Chuck crouched next to her, dangling a pair of handcuffs dangling, his good humor somewhat restored. "I know how much you like jewelry, so I got you a new pair of bracelets… sweetheart."

Knowing that Chuck had to do this part himself in order to finally put the past to rest, Dusty and Amelia stayed out of the way. He got down on one knee, and snapped the handcuffs around her slender wrists. "Let's go, Brianna." Chuck carefully lifted her to her feet, and guided her toward the agents and police. She dug her heels in, forcing him to forcibly drag her along. "I've been waiting years to say this."

"What?"

"You just got Chucked."

Behind him Dusty snorted, and Amelia groaned. "That is _so_ lame, Campbell."

Blitz jerked to a stop. "You said there were _three_ reasons you couldn't let me go. What's the third?"

Chuck, Amelia and Dusty laughed when Blitz's forehead creased in annoyance. "We transferred all the money out of your accounts. All of them. Even if you get off with probation, which I doubt, you'll never see it again." Chuck opened the back of the nearest police car. Boone was already in the back seat soaking wet and wearing an expression of abject humiliation. "You're broke, sweetheart."

"Argh!" Blitz growled, and shot daggers at Chuck with her green eyes. "I _hate_ you!"

He just grinned as he helped her into the back seat of a squad car. "And I'm okay with that."

Chuck was still standing at the open door but jumped back when Blitz lashed out trying to kick him. A policewoman came to take charge of her while she hurled a string of curses at him and his friends that would have made a sailor proud. He was taken aback but kept smiling. Dusty came to stand on his right and Amelia on his left, and the three of them waved as Blitz glared out the back window of the police car.

Chuck crossed his arms, unable to stop grinning. "I should have known it wouldn't work out between Blitz and me. I'm a Leo and she's…"

Dusty popped a bubble and said "…a demonic hell-beast?"

They had a good laugh, and returned to the Mustang. Looking through the window, they watched Zack tapping one particular key on the laptop, over and over again. Chuck rapped on the window and Zack buzzed the window down still making the same face. "What's wrong, buddy?"

The boy sighed heavily. "I keep hitting the escape key…" he looked around "…but I'm still here." Chuck and Amelia got into the back seat. The boy slipped the laptop back into its case, and buckled his seatbelt.

"Where to now, Chuck-a-rooni?"

"We'll have to write our reports. But first…"

"What? Amelia asked.

"Let's get something to eat. I'm _starving_!"

 **Blitz's Apartment**

 **Later that Day**

Zack sat alone in the apartment staring into space. His mom didn't have any family, at least none that she'd ever mentioned, and he hadn't bothered to check. He figured she had to have a good reason not to keep in contact with them. And since finding out that Boone was his biological father he'd been wondering if he might finally have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, but hadn't had a chance to ask. The front door opened, interrupting his thoughts. "Shades!"

The dark-haired man closed the door, and after a moment's hesitation drew the boy into a hug. "How ya doin', _mijo_?"

"I'm okay…considering." Zack stepped back.

"Where're Sneaker and Company?"

"They wanted to stay the night, but I sent them back to the motel."

"I see. Get your gear," Shades told the boy firmly. "We're goin' to my place. Bring your games and we'll play a few rounds. Any game. You're choice." Zack gave him a smug grin, and pointed to several bags sitting at the end of the sofa. Shades laughed, and shouldered the largest. "I got a ride over so we need to take your wheels."

"No prob." He picked up the other two bags. "So, tell me what you're really up to." Shades just stared at him. At least he thought he was staring. Hard to tell with the dark glasses hiding hid eyes. "I'm not _stupid_. Just like Chuck, Amelia and Dusty, _you_ are not what you seem to be."

"Oh?" Shades pulled his Oakleys down to look at Zack over the top, his eyes and face unreadable.

"Yeah." Zack waited, but the man didn't continue as they left the apartment and climbed the stairs to the ground floor.

Shades sighed as they put the bags in the back seat of Zack's car. "It's a long story."

"I'm not goin' anywhere. Not tonight anyway."

Shades slid the passenger seat back to give himself more leg room though he didn't really need it. "Just after high school graduation, I found that my father had embezzled from his own company, and fled the country, leaving my mother and I to fend for ourselves. Mama had no work experience, leaving it up to me to provide for the two of us. Unfortunately, the way I chose to do it was very much against the law…"

 **TBC**


	12. The Chuckinator

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 11**

 **The Chuckinator**

 **Sle** **ep E** **asy** **Motel**

The Mustang pulled up to the motel and screeched to a stop. Dusty blew a bubble and let it pop, and they just sat there without moving. Finally, Amelia got out followed by Dusty. The women waited while Chuck unfolded himself from the backseat. He stretched, scratched his stomach and yawned. Without a word, they went to their rooms and closed the doors.

Still not talking, Amelia grabbed her pajamas, went into the bathroom, and Chuck heard the shower come on. From next door, he could hear the television blaring a football game. He sat on the foot of the bed, removed his boots then rested his elbows on his knees, head in both hands, trying not to think. He'd done too much of that the last couple of weeks, and needed a break. He was gathering his pajamas when the bathroom door opened a crack and a wisp of steam escaped. "You coming or not, Campbell?"

Grinning, Chuck dropped his pajamas, and left a trail of clothing between the bed and the bathroom. The door slammed, and a moment later Amelia squealed when he joined her.

 **The Next Morning**

"What's gonna happen to Zack?" Dusty asked Chuck at breakfast. They were in the diner across from the motel sitting at what had become their table in the corner farthest from door.

"I talked to Shades this morning." He took a sip of coffee, and bite of his eggs. The two men had talked about a great many things though some of it was still a mystery on both sides. "Seems he's the boy's godfather. Zack's going to live with him when he's not at university, and with Shades' sister while he's…"

"While he's what?"

Chuck put his head down so he didn't have to look her in the eye. He couldn't tell her that nearly everything she thought she knew about Shades was based on erroneous assumptions. Assumptions that Shades had propagated himself. Chuck had gotten the story himself only this morning when Shades called while Amelia was still asleep. Well, most of it.

"Chuck! While he's _what_?"

"…out of town," Chuck finished lamely.

"Out of _town_? What are you sayin'? Is he-is he going to _jail_?" He watched her brown eyes grow even darker as she gripped his arm tightly. "Chuck!"

"Dusty." Amelia reprimanded the dark-haired woman. "You need to ask Shades that question, not Chuck."

Dusty sat back, whipped out her phone, scrolling her contact list, but didn't get a chance to dial. At that moment, Shades walked up to their table, a large manila envelope in one hand. "Morning," he greeted the trio amiably as if it were any other day.

"We were just talking about you." Chuck told him, flicking his eyes to indicate the dark-haired woman across from him. "Would you like to join us?"

"Yes, I would, but first I would like to have a few words with Dusty." Dusty's eyes widened. Shades had never called her anything but _Polvita_ or _mi querida._ The server arrived with a place setting and a glass of water. With an after you gesture, he indicated that Dusty should proceed him from the diner.

Chuck and Amelia parted the slats in the blinds drawn to block out the mid-morning sun, and watched as Dusty asked Shades a terse question. He threw his head back and laughed then shook his head. She looked relieved as he talked while she listened with her arms crossed. When he handed over the envelope, she took it hesitantly then looked from Shades to it and back. Shades took her free hand, gave it a squeeze then headed for the entrance again.

Dusty opened the envelop, quickly scanning the first page. Chuck didn't need to see it to know what it said. She called out, Shades turned around, and waited for her to catch up. Dusty grabbed Shades by the lapels, jerked him up against her, and kissed him long and hard. A few moments later they got on the Harley, and roared away.

Chuck turned from the window, picked up his fork, and scooped up the last mouthful of his sausage and eggs. After draining his coffee cup, he dropped the napkin on his empty plate, and moved it to the end of the table for the server to take away. When she came to the table he asked for a refill on the coffee and the check while he surreptitiously watched Amelia. It hadn't escaped his notice that she was unusually quiet now that they didn't have Dusty as a buffer. He wondered what was going through her mind now that they'd reached the end of the mission. All that was left was to write their reports, and debrief General Landry and Colonels Carter and Sheppard when they returned to Atlantis.

It was his opinion that their intimate relationship should not be continued once they returned to their positions in Atlantis. He wanted there to be no question that he was a loyal and trustworthy member of the expedition, nor did he want to get Amelia in trouble. Even if they kept their relationship low-key it would still seem like they were contravening the spirit of the regulations. So, they had to end it. He only hoped it wouldn't ruin their friendship.

Chuck felt a vibration and pulled out his phone. When he read the text message from Dusty, he laughed out loud.

"What is it?"

He turned it so Amelia could read it. "Dusty's spending a few days with Shades, but isn't saying where. Says she'll meet us at the Blue Moon Motel in Niagara." He slipped the phone back into his pocket. "We're expected at the SGC in four."

"Way to go, Dusty." Amelia said with a grin.

Chuck gave his credit card to the server then came around the table to sit next to her, taking her hand in his. "What do you suppose we can do to keep ourselves busy for the next three days?"

Amelia put an arm around his neck, used her free hand to turn him to face her, and kissed him. "I have a few ideas."

"Me, too." He kissed her back. "Come on. I'll drive."

" _Drive_? Where're we going?"

"To see Zack."

 **Shades' Apartment**

Chuck sat on the sofa next to Amelia. Zack sat in an armchair across from them. "You look like you're settling in okay," Chuck remarked. He resisted the urge to look around. He'd never been to Shades apartment before.

"Yeah. He's got two bedrooms here, but the second one is full of boxes and stuff, so I'm on the sofa for now. When he gets back from, you know, spending time with Dusty, he's gonna find us a bigger place, maybe even a house. Apparently, he can afford it. Just never bothered going house hunting before."

"That's great, Zack. We're here because I have something for you." He produced a flash drive. "We moved all the money out of your mom's offshore accounts. I took the liberty of investing it on your behalf. If you have any questions about these investments, I've included the name of a financial advisor, and some other items you might find interesting."

"Thanks, Chuck." Zack got to his feet, a silent signal that he was ready for his guests to leave, so they stood as was well. He hugged each of them then they left him alone again.

 **Orthogon Industries**

 **The OI Plaza Building**

 **Two Days Later**

Manny Havers entered the server room and made his way to a glass-walled office in the far corner. He took off his white lab coat, and threw it on the sofa in the corner. Underneath, he was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt with a borderline offensive saying on the front, and sneakers. He sat at the main workstation, booted it up, cracked his knuckles, and got to work.

His hands flew over the keyboard, opening the file he'd received from their outside contractor. Manny made short work of the many levels of encryption, and found it a treasure trove of information that would hopefully keep OI from completely falling off the map. They'd taken a heavy hit when the BoD had been arrested three days ago. Once they decrypted the information, they could use it to flood the market with all manner of tech to make life more exciting for the world's technophiles.

With a purely evil grin, he opened the first folder. Lines of code flowed across the screen then disappeared to be replaced by a music video from the 1980's, and Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" blasted out of the speakers. The music got louder and he turned to see the other workstations playing the same video.

"Argh! I _hate_ that song!" Manny put his hands over his ears, but it didn't help. Tapping at the keys of each workstation produced no results. No, that's not true. The video shrank, and moved to the upper left corner of the screen, while a larger image slowly faded in until it was Manny could see, a round circle of yellow with a wedge cut out. The image began "eating" lines of code. Frantic now, he pounded on the keyboard. The Pac-Man image stopped eating, and Rick's video vanished. The man breathed a sigh of relief that lasted just long enough to for him to exhale.

This time the blank screen was replaced by a group of animated children from all around the world singing "It's a Small World" first in English then in French to be followed by Japanese, Croatian, Spanish, Farsi, Gaelic, Italian and a score of others.

Royally pissed off, he went out into the hall. People were coming out of their offices and prairie dogging, complaining on about their inability to rid the system of the music. On some monitors, he could see, and hear "I'm Too Sexy." Still others were playing "Somebody's Watching Me."

Manny's phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his front shirt pocket. "Havers. I know! I _know!_ We got Rickrolled in a major way! Yes, of _course_ we're working on it… Anything we do just makes it worse… Yeah… Most if not _all_ of the information we got from the contractor has been destroyed… Yes, I _know_! No, I can't stop it!" The music got louder so he put a hand over his other ear. "What? I can't hear you! You're _kidding_! I…" He found himself shouting into sudden silence as all workstations went blank. "It's stopped… No… I'll get right on it… Yes, we have back-ups in offsite storage, but this week's data dump wasn't scheduled until tonight. We have everything up to Friday… Yes, it means we've lost all the info from the contractor… I've already implemented a daily back-up schedule." The music started again, louder than before, and now it was also coming from the PA. This time it was "I Fought the Law and the Law Won", but the irony was lost on the employees of Orthogon Industries.

 **The Blue Moon Motel**

 **Niagara Falls, New York**

Chuck and Amelia were trying to decide where to go for lunch when they heard a knock on the door. Amelia opened it, and there stood Dusty. She was dressed much as they'd see her the past two weeks except for one notable exception. Now she was wearing a pair of Polarized Half Jacket Oakleys in jet black. She pulled them down so they could see her dark brown eyes, blew a bubble, and smiled.

"Did ya miss me?" Dusty hugged Amelia then Chuck. "Come on. Let's go get somethin' to eat, and talk. I got lots to tell you." Chuck exchanged a look with Amelia that didn't pass unnoticed. "What? If it's about Shades he told me everything. And I do mean everything."

The Atlanteans grabbed their jackets and duffel bags, and joined Dusty outside. The Mustang was gone, replaced by the SUV they'd originally been driving.

"What's going on?" Chuck wanted to know.

"Shades and I went to pick it up. Zack sends his love, too."

They got in, and drove around to the office to check out then Chuck pulled out of the parking lot, and into traffic. "Dusty, Amelia and I have been talking."

"Yeah? 'Bout what?"

"You."

Her eyebrows came together in mild annoyance. " _Me_? Why?"

Amelia took up the story. "We were kinda hopin' we could talk you into changing jobs."

"Leave the SGC? And do what?"

Amelia smiled. "Come to Atlantis."

 **Stargate Command**

 **Colorado Springs, Colorado**

General Landry looked up when Sergeant Harriman knocked. "They're waiting for you, sir."

"Thank you, Walter." Hank Landry powered down his workstation, and pushed back from the desk. He made his way down the hall to the briefing room, seating himself at the head of the table. Looking around at the assembled group he let a smile show. "Before we get this debriefing started let me congratulate all of you on the successful completion of your mission." There was a chorus of thank yous from around the table then he looked at Dusty who sat up straight, and refrained from chewing her gum. "I am, however, puzzled by a couple things. The first is why are _you_ here, Sergeant Mehra? You're scheduled to be on leave for another week."

Chuck raised his hand. "Sergeant Banks and I agreed we might need a little assistance, sir. Sergeant Mehra was an integral part of this operation, and had a big hand in its success."

Landry nodded acceptance. "Second, who is this Shades person?"

Again, Dusty and Amelia deferred to Chuck. "He's an old friend, sir. Sort of a free-lance investigator."

The General thought that over, and didn't find any hidden traps or messages. "Okay. Well, let's get started. Sergeant Campbell, since you were the lead on this mission would you start us off?"

Chuck did his best to sit at attention. It wasn't easy after the last couple of weeks of going against his training, but he managed. "Yes, sir." He passed a file folder to Amelia, Dusty, Walter, Landry, Mitchell, and Cadman, as well as CSIS Senior Special Agents Cranston and Boucher. "On day one of this mission, Sergeant Banks and I landed in Albany International Airport at 1000. A car was waiting for us, and we proceeded to Little Falls, New York to enlist the assistance of Sergeant Mehra. We thought it would lend credence to our cover story of being kicked out of the service if we had a third member of our team to reinforce our claims. As she was on leave, we thought she would be the perfect candidate for this assignment.

"After collecting Sergeant Mehra, we headed to Niagara Falls, New York where we stayed the night in order to brief her on the mission. In the morning, we crossed over into Canada without incident. We arrived at the meeting site in Toronto two hours later, and were joined shortly thereafter by our contact, Brianna Krieger…"

~~O~~

Hours later the debriefing finally broke up with everyone but the agents and Landry adjourning to the Mess Hall. Mitchell was telling a story about an incident from his senior year of high school in Auburn, Kansas.

"The state semi-finals were coming up in a few days. My team was _not_ favored to win. It was also the coach's birthday, and me and the squad wanted to do something special to let him know how much we appreciated all his hard work whipping them into a winning team. We plotted out a strategy then made some calls. The coach was well-liked by everyone who knew him, and people were more than happy to assist.

"So, the night before the big game, everyone they knew who had a dog, arrived at the rival team's field to let the dogs do their business. The next day, the field smelled so bad that the game had to be moved to our field, giving us the home field advantage. We won the game, and went on to win the state championship."

When Mitchell finished his recitation, everyone was in stitches. Cadman, not one to allow herself to be one-upped, told a story about her high school hockey team. "The night before the big game against our arch rivals we, the team and the cheer squad, went to our coach's house and completely covered his car with Saran wrap. We got the tires, windows. Even the undercarriage." Everyone laughed until they realized that Cadman was not.

"What happen, Laura?" Mitchell asked.

"If we hadn't stayed around to watch the fireworks, it could have been bad." She paused for dramatic effect. "The coach's wife went into labor that evening. They lived way out in the country, and it would have taken an ambulance too long to get there." A gasp went around the table. "We took them to the hospital in my car. Her water broke five minutes before we reached the hospital."

Cadman leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed. "On the upside, they had a beautiful baby girl." She looked at the faces around the table giving them all a smile filled with deep inner humor. "We were lucky we didn't get _expelled_. The coach intervened on our behalf, and the school let it drop. We were so _stoked_ we won the game. I sold the car a month later because everyone refused to ride in it, even after I had the seats cleaned."

 **On Board the** _ **Daedalus**_

Chuck entered the Mess Hall and looking for Amelia. He located her sitting in the far corner alone, reading a book, and drinking a glass of iced tea. He went though the line, grabbed tea and a snack for himself, and made his way over. "Hey."

"Hey. Have a seat." She put her book aside, and watched while he made a big production of opening his fruit cup, and giving it a few stirs to get the peaches off the bottom. "You've got something to say so quit stalling, Campbell."

One side of his mouth turned upward. "Nothing gets by you, does it?" He twisted his glass back and forth to get his thoughts in order. They'd put it off long enough. It was time for them to talk about their personal relationship.

Just as he was about to speak, she said, "You're breaking up with me."

His head snapped up and their eyes met for the first time in days. They hadn't been alone since they'd returned to the SGC, mostly because he'd been avoiding her. It's not like she sought him out either, so they were somewhat even. "Yes."

"It's probably for the best."

"We'll be back on Atlantis soon."

"Right. And we still have to work together."

He nodded in agreement. Amelia drank the last of her tea, and set the glass on the table with a thump. He kept his eyes on his own glass, his thumb rubbing at the condensation.

"So, your quarters in thirty minutes. That work for you, Mounty?"

He laughed, and their eyes met. "Yes, it does, Spunky."

Amelia took her glass to the pass through, and hurried from the room. Chuck waited ten minutes, and did the same.

~~O~~

"This was a mistake." Amelia rubbed her hand over Chuck's bare chest, and slid one leg over and between his.

"I know." He cuddled her closer pressing her head to his shoulder and resting his cheek on the top of her head with a sigh of contentment.

After a few minutes, she tilted her head back, slid her hand around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. "But some mistakes are too much fun to only make once."

Chuck laughed as she pushed herself up and over to straddle his hips. He looked up into her face, her long hair loose around her shoulders. "You read my mind."

 **TBC**


	13. The Chucknician

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 12**

 **The Chucknician**

 **Atlantis**

 **Praise and Punishment**

Chuck finished his report on their mission, and resumed his seat. He was so nervous, it was difficult not to drum his fingers on the table but he managed.

"Excellent job, Sergeant Campbell, Sergeant Banks," Carter told Chuck and Amelia. She and Sheppard had listened to them recount their adventures with only the occasional snort of suppressed laughter. They laughed out loud when told of the fight in the hotel hallway with the turkey legs and cherry pie, and how they'd gotten wedged in a laundry chute shortly thereafter.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Carter pushed her chair back, and stood. Sheppard was sitting there idly playing with an unopened lollipop. It reminded Chuck of Dusty and her gum chewing.

"Dismissed." The assembled group exited the main conference room, Chuck bringing up the rear. "Sergeant Campbell, please stay. We have one more item to discuss." Carter resumed her seat.

 _Oh, God. Here it comes.,_ he thought as he turned to face Carter and Sheppard, standing at parade rest.

Sheppard leaned over and had a quick whispered conversation with Carter. She nodded, and turned to face him with her hands clasped together in front of her on the table. "We still have to address your confession regarding the crimes you committed before enlisting, and being posted to Atlantis."

"May I speak freely, Colonel?"

"Always."

"Once again, I fully admit my guilt. However, I want both of you to know that it was not done maliciously. I had hoped that by entering the service that it would, in some way, atone for the crimes I'd committed even though the statute of limitations has run out. That it brought me to Atlantis was an unforeseen event.

"What I want you to know is that I've felt more at home here than anywhere on Earth. I have great respect for both of you and hope that this incident hasn't dimmed your faith in me." He paused trying to gauge their reactions to his statement but their faces were unreadable. "That being said, I'm ready to accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate."

"We understand, Sergeant. We'll take your remorse into account when we determine what form your punishment will take, and inform you tomorrow of our decision." She stood again, as did Sheppard. "Dismissed."

~~O~~

Chuck sat in his quarters on Atlantis waiting to hear from Carter and Sheppard. He got up and paced from the bed to the bathroom to the door and back to the bed. Over and over again. His stomach grumbled getting him thinking about going for something to eat, but the chime broke into his thoughts before he could make up his mind. "Leesh!"

"Welcome back, _Borrachito_." Alicia Vega slapped him on the chest with the back of her hand as she entered without an invitation. "I came to see if you wanted to get something to eat. You can tell me all about your trip to Earth."

"I was just thinking about calling you."

They had just reached the door when it chimed again. This time it was Amelia. She and Chuck avoided looking directly at each other sending up a signal a blind man could have seen. It was much easier for Alicia. "Oh… my… _God_!" She looked from one to the other her eyes wide. "You two did the horizontal hula, didn't you?"

Both Sergeants now wore expressions of shock and guilt. "Wh-I-he-we-" Amelia stuttered.

"How did you know?" Chuck asked incredulously.

She watched them with a salacious grin. "If I was a betting person… oh, wait, I am. My money says you're not, uh…" her hand waved back and forth between them "…anymore."

"No!" They said in unison.

"I wasn't finished. I'm _also_ betting that you left it out of your report." Chuck look at her then away. "Uh- _huh_. So, what happened to 'I'm never lying to anyone ever again', Chuck?"

Chuck was silent as he digested her words. _Leesh is right._ I _have to tell Carter and Sheppard._ He opened the door with one hand, the other going to his headset. Before he could activate it, Alicia grabbed his arm, spun him around, and flung him back into the room. " _What_ are you doing? I have to…" Alicia gave him a shove, and he fell onto the bed. With a grunt, he got to his feet. The two women tackled him, all three falling onto the bed again. He wriggled one arm free and used it to sweep Alicia to the side, his forearm getting her just under her clavicle. She fell backward, and rolled off the foot of the bed to land on the floor with a thump.

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" Chuck called out. He'd only meant to push her off _him_ , not the bed.

Amelia used his concern for Alicia to pounce. She straddled his hips and pressed his arms into the mattress next to his head. With very little effort he used his superior strength to roll them until he was looking down at her, one eyebrow raised impertinently. "Do I _really_ need to remind you that you tried that before with similar results?" His voice was low and she could feel the vibration where his body rested against hers.

She pursed her lips. "Yeah, but what about the other four or five times we…"

" _Ay dios mio!_ Please, kill me now so I don't have to listen to you two reminisce!" Alicia said from her place on the floor. She hadn't expected Chuck to retaliate, and was trying to regroup. Pushing to her feet, she climbed on the bed and got Chuck in a full nelson. She rolled to the side pulling him off Amelia only now he was lying on top of her. He struggled to get away, but she wrapped both legs around his torso and locked her ankles.

Chuck knew how to get out of the hold, but he had to be on his feet. He didn't have any idea how to get out of it from this position without hurting either of the women, especially now that Amelia was kneeling next to them.

"Chuck, as long as you aren't continuing that part of your relationship, the Colonels _don't need to know_ ," Alicia whispered in his ear. Her voice was slightly strained from the exertion of holding him still. He brought his hands up to try and pry her arms loose. Amelia got hold of his wrists as best she could, and pulled his hands away so Alicia didn't have to hold him so tight. He gave a jerk trying to get away, throwing Amelia was thrown off balance, causing her to fall on top of him. She yelped in alarm thinking they would all tumble to the floor.

At that moment, the door snapped open, and Major Lorne entered, followed by a fully armed squad.

~~O~~

"Here it is. Sergeant Campbell's quarters." Lorne and a squad of armed Marines stopped in front of Chuck's door. They could hear sounds coming from inside that could have been fighting. A cry of alarm was barely audible, but unmistakable. "Open it! Now!" The door slid open, and the three soldiers were greeted by a very odd sight. Three people, a man and two women were on the bed. One of the women was on her back with the man on top of her. A second woman was face down on top of both of them.

"The _hell_ is going on here?" Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dimmer light, he could see that they were fully clothed. Chuck Campbell, Alicia Vega and Amelia Banks were looking at him with identical expressions of shock, dread and guilt.

Amelia pushed off Chuck and stood at attention next to the bed. There was a flurry of movement and her two companions did the same. "This isn't what it looks like, sir."

"Oh? And what do _you_ think it looks like, Banks? Because I know what _I_ think it looks like, and if it's what it looks like to _me_ then all I can suggest is next time don't do it quite so loud."

"It was a spur-of-the-moment self-defense lesson that got a little out of hand, sir." Alicia told him. "I take full responsibility."

Lorne looked from one to the other, but they all just stared straight ahead, hands behind their backs. He knew they weren't telling the entire story, but it wasn't worth putting them on report. "We have a place for that. It's called the gym. Do your training there from now on."

"Yes, sir." The three said together. Lorne nodded and left, the Marines trailing in his wake, the door closing behind them.

They said nothing for a few minutes then Chuck remarked, "Now _that_ was embarrassing."

Amelia snorted. "No kidding."

"So, what were we talking about?" Alicia asked scratching her head. "Oh, yeah. You do _not_ have to tell them."

Chuck made a sound of frustration. "Yes, I do! Not telling them is a lie of omission. I just didn't think it was pertinent when we gave our report."

" _No_ , Chuck." Amelia told him. "You don't have to tell them."

"But…"

"I already did." Amelia looked at the floor. I made sure they understood it was all over before we came home."

"Oh. Um. Okay. Why?"

Amelia made a sound of frustration. "So, you wouldn't be in any more trouble than you already are." She finally looked at him. "I wouldn't mention it though. They were kinda ticked that you left it out of your written report, but are willing to cut you some slack because it helped solidify our cover story."

Still used to being able to touch her without worrying about what others might think Chuck moved forward his arms out to embrace her. He'd only taken single step when Alicia laughed breaking the spell. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Let's go eat." They exited Chuck's quarters and headed down the hall. Alicia put a hand on Amelia's arm to hold her back. When Chuck was far enough ahead that he couldn't hear, she asked, "So, tell me, was he…?" She wiggled her eyebrows. " _What?_ I'm curious."

Amelia shot a look in Chuck's direction but he was just rounding the corner ahead of them. She grinned, leaning close to whisper in Alicia's ear she added, "He has this thing he does that sends me into orbit every time."

"Hey! What's the hold up? Let's go before the pie's all gone" The women exchanged a smile and hurried to catch up.

~~O~~

The three friends walked down the food line making comments about the probable provenance of the meatloaf (a mystery), and the age of the vegetables (not fresh). Chuck was almost drooling for a piece of apple pie, his favorite. He reached for a slice, snatching his hand back when it was slapped.

"Uh-uh!" A stern female voice said.

"Ow! What-" He looked up into the scowling face of the Mess Hall manager, Elaine Honeyworth. If you looked at just her face she appeared to be in her early forties, but strands of white in her short brown hair said she was much older. She was shaking a finger at him.

"I heard tell that you've been a _bad boy_ , Charles, so no dessert for you."

"But…"

"No dessert!" Her bright blue eyes turned themselves to his companions. "And don't share yours with him or you won't get any either." She put her hands on her boney hips and glared at Amelia and Alicia daring them to defy her orders.

"Yes, ma'am," the women chorused. Ms. Honeyworth nodded firmly, and walked away leaving three very confused people in her wake.

 **The Next Morning**

"…and for the next month you will assist Dr. McKay in any way that he deems appropriate including, but not limited to, assisting with repairs and research, making coffee, collecting his meals from the Mess Hall and running errands that have nothing do to with the day-to-day operations of the Science and Research department." Carter tried to keep her face impassive, but Chuck could see a twinkle of amusement in her blue eyes.

Sheppard added his voice. "In short, when McKay says jump, you're gonna say…" 

Chuck tried not to sigh out loud. "How high?"

"Exactly. Because of the excellent work you did in bringing Brianna Krieger and Daniel Hayes to justice, the IOA won't be informed of your past activities. It won't even go on your record."

"Yes, sir." Chuck saluted, and waited to be dismissed.

"There's one more thing, Sarge. No dessert for a month."

Chuck wasn't sure he'd heard his commanding officer correctly, but Sheppard had on his semi-serious face. It might have been his full-on serious one, but it was tempered by the fact that he was sucking on a lollipop.

"Thirty days, no dessert. And to make sure you comply, we've informed Ms. Honeyworth. She kinda reminds me of the lunch lady from high school. We only got dessert if we cleaned our plates and behaved. I was denied her apple pie and checkerboard cake on more than a few occasions, so she'll see to it that you comply with orders. By the way, she has spies everywhere, in case you try to get around orders."

 _Well, that explains the weirdness at dinner last night_. Chuck walked down the hall with an air of relief. This might not be so bad. He could go without dessert for a month. Plus, he and Doctor McKay got along fairly well. _Oh, who am I kidding? This is going to be_ torture _!_ He sighed. _Well, best get to it._

A few minutes later he presented himself to Rodney in the main science lab to begin his thirty-day sentence by making a pot of coffee for the physicist, collecting his uniforms from the laundry, and bringing him lunch. Later he was sent to Janus' lab to catalogue some of the less noteworthy items that had been piling up for over a year.

 **The SGC**

 **A Few Months Later**

SG-13 exited the Stargate and walked down the ramp with Dr. Erin Peterson leading the way. Major Clayton and Dusty supported Captain Hines between them. The medical team surged forward, and lifted the injured Captain onto a gurney, gave him a quick exam then wheeled him out the door. The two women returned their weapons to the Amory then went to the Commissary for dinner. Afterwards they went to the Infirmary to check on their injured teammate.

Captain Harvey Hines, a stocky African-American, was sitting up in bed, a bandage on his forehead, his left foot elevated and wrapped. He was reading a paperback novel, and drinking a cup of coffee. When they approached, he set both aside to give them his full attention.

The three teammates were talking and laughing when Major Clayton approached. "Goldbricking again, Hines?" He said it with a smile so the other man would know he was joking.

Hines scooted farther down into the bed clasping both hands behind his head. "How else am I gonna get so many lovely ladies to wait on me hand and, uh, foot?"

Erin Peterson made a derisive sound, Dusty snorted and blew a bubble and the Major just shook his head and laughed. "Well, I didn't come in here to listen to you fantasize, Hines. I'm here to congratulate Sergeant Mehra."

"Me, sir? What for?"

"Your transfer request has come through." He watched her face go slack with shock. "Pack up your gear, Sarge. You're going to Atlantis."

 **Atlantis**

 **Five Years Later**

Gate Technician Jimmy Kwon tapped his headset. "The _General Hammond_ has arrived, sir. Their passenger is ready to transport." The other techs looked up curiously then went back to their work. Jimmy looked over the rail to see his boss nod and turn to face the open area in front of the giant ring. His face appeared impassive, even indifferent, but those who knew him well could see excitement in his brown eyes. A moment later he was joined by two women.

There was a flash of light, and a young brown-haired man appeared before him carrying two duffle bags. They looked at each other for a moment then a huge smile split all their faces. The three Atlanteans stepped forward one at a time to envelope the young man in a hug.

"Welcome to Atlantis, Zack," Lieutenant Chuck Campbell told him warmly.

"Thanks, Chuck."

Dusty kept her arms around him for a long time squeezing him tight. "Missed you bunches, Zack-ster!"

"Missed you, too, Dust-a-rooni! You owe me a rematch so I brought some games."

"Cool!"

When he stepped back from their embrace, Amelia smiled. He made as if to touch her enlarged belly, but drew back without making contact. "It's okay, Zack. She won't bite. At least not right away."

"When, uh…" Zack gestured.

"Any day now." She groaned, and pressed both hands to her lower back. "The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned. I haven't been able to sleep on my stomach in months."

Zack laughed as he looked around him with his mouth open in awe. "Wow! It's even more amazing than the vids."

Chuck smiled. " _We_ think so." He gestured and the group moved toward the nearest transport.

"So, what's this all about? What am I doing here? That Lieutenant Colonel person wasn't exactly explicit. He just showed up on my doorstep three weeks ago with a couple of jarheads, handed me a confidentiality agreement to sign and a letter from you then said I'd be picked up within twenty-four hours. By the way, who writes letters anymore?"

Looking smug, Chuck noted, "It's an early birthday present."

"Well, it's a good one so far. It's… I mean, teleporting, spaceships, hyperspace, aliens, the lost city of Atlantic. It's so cool!" Zack followed his friends as they stepped into the transport outside of Operations and out again on the barracks level. Chuck, Amelia and Dusty led him to his assigned quarters. They exited the room a few minutes later, and the group was joined almost immediately by a tall man with wavy brown hair that just reached his shoulders. Zack could sense great strength from him. It flowed out of him in waves, scaring him just a little. When the man leaned down to tenderly kiss Amelia, and rub a hand over her round stomach Zack knew who he was.

"Zack, this is my husband, Ronon. Ronon… Dr. Zack Parrish." They shook hands and Ronon simply nodded a greeting.

"Where you headed?" Amelia asked Ronon with an affectionate smile.

"Sparring with Sheppard."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Try not to injure him this time." This last was said to his retreating back.

"He seems _very_ friendly," Zack remarked wryly then turned to Chuck. "You know, my birthday's in a few days." He rubbed his hands together. "You're planning a party, right?"

"You could say that." Chuck led the group down the hall, and Amelia announced their presence at an open door. Inside they could see a number of people sitting at workstations. A white board ( _A white board?!)_ covered in complex mathematical equations was at the back of the room, and two men were in front of it having a heated argument, about what wasn't quite clear. Their voices were soft yet impassioned. The man with glasses threw his hands up in the air then switched from English to Czech, and stormed away.

"Dr. McKay?" Chuck called out quietly.

"Go away, Chuck. Can't you see I'm busy?" Rodney went to his workstation, tapping rapidly at the keyboard. They heard a sound, sort of, but not quite a double squeak then an out of sync creaking started. All conversation either halted or lowered to whispering including Chuck.

"Dr. McKay, this is my friend Doctor Zackary Parrish. Zack, I'd like you to meet Dr. Rodney McKay."

Rodney's head snapped up, his face covered with a scowl as he looked Zack up and down, surprised to find a stranger in his lab, especially one so young. Normally, when he exhibited this expression, yelling ensued, but not today. Today he settled for a sharp whisper. " _You're_ the Dr. Parrish who wrote the paper on inertial confinement fusion?"

Zack looked at Chuck, Amelia and Dusty, but they just looked back with self-satisfied expressions. Before Zack could respond a cry split the air. It was joined a moment later by another.

"Oh, crap!" Rodney pushed back from the table, and reached underneath. Chuck bent over and helped him pull out two Athosian-style cradles he'd been rocking with his feet. A squalling baby approximately three months old lay inside each. He handed the one wrapped in blue to Zack. "Here! Walk, jiggle, pat!" he ordered.

 **TBC**


	14. Home Is Where the Chuck Is

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sunny

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Chapter 13**

 **Home Is Where the Chuck Is**

"Excuse me?!" Zack just stood there holding the wriggling screaming child carefully in both arms.

Rodney came up with a second baby wrapped in pink. He rested her gently over his left shoulder then began walking back and forth slightly jiggling the little girl while he alternated rubbing and patting her soothingly. Zack watched him a moment then copied him carefully easing the boy onto his right shoulder, and walking back and forth while rubbing the boy's back. The unmistakable scent of baby powder reached his nose. A few minutes later the crying slowed and finally stopped.

"Dr. McKay…" Zack started to say, but Rodney interrupted when the child started to cry again.

"Sh!" Rodney waved commandingly. "You _have_ to keep moving. If Declan starts crying he'll get Cadence going again, and I'll _never_ get any work done."

The young man did as instructed with wide-eyed bafflement. This was the strangest interview he'd ever attended. He looked to his friends for support, but they'd gone, leaving him alone with his hero, who turned out to be a madman, and two small babies.

"Why, uh…"

Still in that same soft voice Rodney said, "My wife is offworld on a medical something or other. I have a lot of work to do, and there wasn't anyone who could stay with them. At least no one that I trust." At the look on Zack's face he hastily added "Not that I don't trust Chuck, Amelia or Dusty. It's just that, well, you see, what I mean is…"

Zack rolled his eyes. "I understand."

~~O~~

Rodney and Jennifer married, and set up housekeeping on Earth only to return to Atlantis a couple of years later. Sheppard still referred to it as the time they "ran away and joined the circus." Declan and Cadence Keller-McKay were born within a year of their return to Pegasus.

The small bundle on Rodney's shoulder yawned and moved her head causing her breath to brush across his skin, and her little pink nose to rub his neck. His face glowed with delight and a smile so brilliant it could have lit up Atlantis. "No other feeling in the world comes close to holding a child in your arms, and giving them comfort." Zack just nodded and smiled back. "Now, about your theory…"

Zack had heard about Dr. McKay and his wild mood swings, and had just witnessed the man run through a series of emotions from arrogant and condescending, to nervous and anxious, to caring and gentle in record time. _Amazing!_

~~O~~

Dusty looked back at the main science lab with concern. "Think Zack'll be okay?"

Chuck took her by the hand and guided her away. "He'll be fine. McKay _likes_ him."

"How can you tell?"

"He let him hold Declan, didn't he? And you know how picky he is about who holds his kids."

"Yeah. You're right." Dusty checked the time, grabbed Chuck by the lapels of his jacket, pulled him up against her, and gave him a long, hot kiss. When his hands came up to frame her face the light glinted off the circle of gold on his left ring finger, a simple band that matched the one Dusty wore. "Gotta go, Chuck-o-my-heart. Back in a couplea days."

He let her go reluctantly. "Love you."

"You, too."

"Be careful! And bring me back a t-shirt!" She stuck her tongue out at him then took off at a run, jumped into a transport, disappearing with a wave and a smile. When he turned around Amelia was watching him with a silly grin. "What?"

"Married life really agrees with both of you. Who would have thought you'd end up married to the woman who shoved you head first into a pumpkin shell within seconds of your first meeting?"

Chuck laughed, and put his arm around Amelia's shoulders as they walked down the hall. "Don't know what it was about her, but once we got past the Chuck-o-lantern phase…" he paused while she laughed "…it was like we'd known each other forever. Sort of like when _we_ met. Remember?"

"Yeah. Shortly after I arrived we had that lockdown, and Colonel Sheppard accidentally set off the self-destruct. You were so calm I was sure we'd make it." Her face pinched in pain.

"What's wrong?"

"Back hurts a little." She smiled.

"I wasn't nearly as calm as I appeared, believe me." They laughed together, and she rested her head against his shoulder for a moment. "And we got to blow stuff up."

Amelia was quiet for a few moments then said, "Tell me something."

"Anything."

"When did you start feeling more than friendship for Dusty?"

His smile was sad. "This will sound a little weird, but it was a few months after Leesh died. They were good friends, and it really hit her hard though she didn't show it. You know how our little soldier girl is. She told me about it herself, came to my quarters after the mission. I cried a little." He saw her knowing smile. "Okay, I cried a lot.

"You know Dusty and I went together to take Alicia back to Earth and talk to her family. We told them what we could, and they understood there were some things they weren't meant to know. I knew she was sad, but she never said anything, didn't mention Alicia again, not once on the way back or since.

"Then, oh, two weeks or so after we got back to Atlantis AR-3 was on a mission with Sheppard and Lorne's teams plus a couple of squads of Marines. Six of our people were culled, and the Hiveship got away before we could mount a rescue. Much later we found out from Todd that they'd been fed upon almost immediately."

"Yes." Her eyes were sad. "I remember."

"Well, a few nights later we were in the Mess Hall eating dinner…"

 **Four Years Ago**

"You gonna eat your apple?" Dusty asked Chuck pointing at the Granny Smith on his tray. They were sitting across from each other in the Mess Hall at the same table with Carson Beckett, Allison Porter, Lorne, Teldy and a few others.

"I am, but I'll share it with you." He cut it, and passed her half.

"Thanks." The fruit made a satisfying crunch when she bit into it, drops of juice dribbling down her chin.

"You've got a little, uh…" Chuck reached over with a napkin to dab at her chin.

Dusty snatched the napkin from his hand with a friendly glare, and used it to wipe the juice away herself. "You goin' to the movie?"

"No. You?"

"No." Dusty stifled a yawn. They'd gotten to be friends during the mission to catch Blitz and Boone. A few months later she came to Atlantis, and their friendship grew stronger. Not long afterwards their mutual friend Captain Alicia Vega was killed, further solidifying their friendship. Because he knew her so well, he could tell the dark-haired woman wasn't saying what was really on her mind. He stood, and picked up his tray.

"I've been having trouble sleeping. Think I'll go sit on the balcony off the barracks level. Get a little fresh air. See ya."

~~O~~

Chuck looked at his watch and sighed. Today was three months since Alicia Vega had been killed. Telling Dusty he would be out here was his way of letting her know he was available, if she needed or wanted to talk, or just wanted someone to sit with so she didn't have to be alone. He'd been certain she would come, but he'd been here for almost an hour.

The sun had set hours ago, and there was a chill to the air. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, and was contemplating going back inside when he heard footsteps. He knew who it was without turning. Standing up, he walked to the railing, leaned on the upper rail, and looked out over the city. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dusty come to stand next to him, copying his casual pose both hands gripping the rail. He missed Alicia, and knew Dusty did too, though she would never say so, not out loud.

He heard a pop then, "I miss…" Her voice trailed off.

"What?"

"…snow. I miss the snow."

Chuck knew she been about to say something else. "Not me. It was my job to shovel it when I was a kid."

"My brother and I took turns." She blew a bubble, and let it pop then rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

"Cold?"

Dusty shrugged. "A little." She almost jumped when Chuck draped his jacket around her. "Thanks."

Chuck moved to the bench and sat down. Dusty followed a short time later. She shivered again so he did the gentlemanly thing and put his arm carefully around her shoulders, bracing himself just in case she tried to hit him. Shifting slightly, she pressed herself just the tiniest bit closer to his side. It was barely perceptible, but for someone like her, it spoke volumes.

He didn't know or care how much time had passed before she scooted away. She stood up, and handed him his jacket, letting him know she was ready to leave. He slipped it on, and stood as well. Together they went back inside.

Over the next couple of months, they met on the balcony several times a week. How often all depended on if she was offworld on a mission or he was on duty. Most of the time they just watched the city or the stars without speaking, enjoying a companionable silence, sharing friendship. Occasionally, others would be there, but mostly it was just the two of them.

When they talked, they got close to, but never actually touched on the subject that drove them to seek each other out. And that was okay with Chuck. What was said didn't matter. It was reassuring just to know that he wasn't the only one who missed Alicia.

 **Present**

"So, you didn't…?" Amelia raised an eyebrow, letting the question hang in the air.

"Didn't what? Oh! _No_." Chuck waved a hand to indicate the negative. "That didn't happen until we returned to Earth.

"One night, she showed up on the balcony after being offworld for a few days. We sat on the bench and talked for a while, I don't remember what about. Probably about her mission. Later, we watched the moon come up, and move across the sky. That night, for the first time, she reached out, and held my hand. When I stood up to leave, she didn't let go. Suddenly she, uh…" He didn't finish the sentence and Amelia giggled. "Well, to say I was surprised would be an understatement. We'd been friends for a while, and she'd never given me the _slightest_ indication that she thought of me as anything more than a friend." At Amelia's smirk a blush washed over his face. " _What?_ I'm a _guy,_ and a beautiful woman was suddenly telling me in no uncertain terms that she wanted me. Under the circumstances, resistance wasn't just futile, it was completely nonexistent.

"I thought it was going to be a one-time thing, and that would have been fine with me, but she kept coming back." He chuckled a little. "I let her decide the when and the where. This went on for a few months. Then one day I realized that I cared about her as much more than just a friend or even a friend with benefits. In a massive moment of weakness, I told her."

Amelia grinned. "I can guess what happened next."

Chuck grinned. "My timing _really_ sucked. She freaked out, and avoided me for days. Then one day she showed up at my door. That's when I knew she felt the same, though she didn't actually say so until much later. I already knew for absolute certainty that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but the hard part was convincing her I was serious. But you know me. I'm persistent. It took more than two years, but she eventually succumbed to my incredible charm, and obvious allure, and agreed to marry me."

"Of course she did."

"I think it's not a lack of _love_ , but the lack of _friendship_ that makes marriages unhappy. Dusty and I were friends long before we became more, and that's just one of the things that has made this a happy marriage. I'm not saying everything's perfect. We've had to make compromises. But she's changed quite a bit from the Dusty we first met. She's more mature."

"I know." Amelia's face was scrunched up in thought. "I don't remember ever seeing the two of you…"

"That's because we didn't want anyone to know. Not even you. I don't need to quote the regs, do I?" He gave her a significant look.

"Uh, no."

"I…" He broke off when Amelia gasped and leaned forward with a hand on her stomach. She grabbed his hand, and squeezed to the point of pain. "Ow! What's wrong?" Before she could respond there was a splash, and they both looked down to see a puddle of liquid on the floor. His sisters had kids so he knew what it meant. "Uh-oh."

Amelia's face twisted in pain. "Take me to the Infirmary. Now!"

Chuck guided Amelia to the transport, tapped the screen, and a moment later they were on the infirmary level. "Carson!" The Scot was already hurrying forward as if he could sense they'd be coming. "Her water broke," Chuck told him.

"Well, love, looks like it's time to have a baby. We'll get you fixed right up." A nurse came forward to assist Amelia onto an exam table. She pulled the privacy curtain, and helped her out of her clothes and into a gown. Carson returned just as the soon-to-be mother gasped in pain again. "Now let's have a look. Hmm. Oh, dear!" The doctor's voice floated out to the Gate Tech. "Chuck, how long since the last contraction?"

Chuck looked at his watch. "Not long."

"Call Ronon, and get him here immediately! This little lass is in a wee bit of a hurry." Carson and the nurse wheeled the bed toward the operating theater.

Chuck hadn't waited for the doctor's order. He was already talking to the Satedan. "…Yes, _now!_ Hurry or you'll miss the birth of your daughter."

Ronon strode quickly into the Infirmary not more than a minute later. Chuck pointed, and the big man went over to the nurse who gave him terse instructions for scrubbing up, helped him into a gown, and took him into the delivery room.

~~O~~

Nearly two hours later, Ronon finally came out. He held the doors open while Carson and the nurse wheeled the bed holding Amelia, and the baby out to the ward.

Chuck, Zack, John, Teyla, Rodney, Lorne, Woolsey, Zelenka, and a few others were standing and sitting around the Infirmary in various poses of impatience while they waited. Rodney was feeding Declan a bottle, and John was helping by rocking Cadence. At three months, the little girl already took after her father. She'd finished her bottle in record time, and was sleeping peacefully. She would do so until it was time for her next meal, unless her brother started crying.

Ronan gestured, and everyone gathered around the bed to have their first look at the newest addition to the Atlantis family. The baby girl had a pink crocheted cap on her tiny head, and was wrapped in a soft brightly colored blanket. She was sound asleep. Despite her ordeal, Amelia looked happy, and peaceful.

"She's beautiful," Teyla told the new parents. The sentiment was echoed by everyone.

"What's her name?" Sheppard asked from his position at the foot of the bed, still holding Cadence.

Amelia smiled up at Ronon. "Meleya Izobel. Meleya for Ronon's mother. Izobel for his grandmother."

Teyla nodded her approval as Ronon took the baby from his wife and sat in the chair next to the bed.

John took that as their cue to leave. "Congratulations, Chewy."

Out in the hall the group of friends stood there for a few minutes of companionable silence watching the cozy little domestic scene then Chuck said, "Dusty is gonna be _so_ pissed she missed this." They all shared a laugh and one last look at Ronon, Amelia, and baby Meleya then went their separate ways with John following Rodney to his quarters to help him put the twins to bed.

 **TBC**


	15. Epilogue The Life and Times of the Chuck

**A/N:** The timeline for this story is just after "Quarantine."

Many thanks go out to Lone-Ranger1 for brain-storming, assistance with Betas, suggestions, ideas, outline for the story, the distinctly Canadian "cultural" references and, of course, his friendship.

 _Gracias,_

Sandy

 **Chuck's Canadian Crime Connection**

 **Epilogue**

 **The Life and Times of the Chuck**

 **And So It Goes**

Dusty was indeed upset that she'd missed the birth of their godchild, but it lasted only as long as it took for Amelia to place Meleya in her arms. Someone took a photo without her knowledge catching the Marine in an unguarded moment, an almost childlike look of wonder and amazement on her face. Her husband was beside her though his eyes were on his wife, love shining in his eyes.

Chuck Campbell, a man who had elevated patience to an art form, had that patience rewarded two years later when, one week after their third anniversary, Senior Staff Sergeant Dusty Campbell presented her husband with a son they named Charles Junior. CJ was blessed with the equanimity and determination of a saint from his father, a gung-ho do or die attitude from his mother, and intelligence from both that served him well.

CJ was not the first child to be born in Atlantis nor was he the last. Many more children were added to the mix over the years. Even John Sheppard married and began producing mini-Sheppards to keep things interesting. But then life in Atlantis had seldom been dull.

The exploration of Pegasus continued. New friends were made as well as new enemies. Both learned not to cross a certain Canadian Gate Technician, because, under that laid-back, easy-going smile, was a giant can of Whoop Ass just waiting to be opened again.

Worlds turn, life goes on, and, for good or ill, the universe continues.

And so it goes.

 **The End**


End file.
